Hopelessly Devoted
by Fujiwara no Seimei
Summary: Abe had always thought Mihashi was the one hopelessly devoted to him.  As their lives progress, he would come to realize that it was really the other way around. Chapter 11: "Tobira wo Akete". Mature themes and strong language. Chapter 7 and 9 HEAVY BL.
1. The Second Year: Part 1

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Summary: Fed up with Mihashi and Abe's co-dependence, the team removes Abe as starting catcher for the Nishiura High School Baseball team. What proves to be devastating at first, turns out in the long run to set the two on a track for a long, rewarding relationship that will last for the rest of their lives.

Multi-chapter.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Mihashi Ren was a lot of things, but above all of them, he was good. His intentions were pure, he always thought of his team first, and he never really hated anyone. All he knew was how to love, how to care, and how to be afraid.

He especially cared for Abe Takaya, the person who promised him that he would be an ace. One person of many who would be touched by Mihashi's goodness. But he didn't know how much he would be touched. Not yet.

In the meantime, Abe was busy. Mihashi trusted Abe with his body and soul, and Abe saw fit to repay this by managing it down to the last pitch of the day and the last grain of rice he consumed. What Abe thought was direction necessary for the good of the team and the maintenance of the pitcher was, in practice, a misinterpreted representation of his desire to help his pitcher succeed. It read as controlling, demeaning micro-management.

Mihashi was a simple soul, who, believing that if he obeyed Abe's every directive, felt Abe would continue to like him, and subsequently, he would be successful. Mihashi had wanted so badly to be liked, that he had forgotten what being liked _was_ like, and was totally content with Abe's version of affection. The rest of the team, however, was not so quick to buy it. They all knew how pure Mihashi's heart was, and saw Abe's actions as incredibly insulting to their pitcher. He was dense, for sure, but he was capable of taking care of himself as a pitcher. Unfortunately, bringing it up was impossible due to Mihashi's delicate and defensive nature.

"Damnit, Abe, he doesn't need you to tell him not to get his fingers hit when he's bunting!" Izumi had shouted one day.

Before Abe could react, Mihashi began stammering and tearing up.

"But...Abe-kun...cares...about...me..." he stuttered. "D...don't be...mad...at...A...*sniff*...A...*hic*...Ab..."

At which point, Izumi caught sight of the entirety of the rest of the team making gestures to suggest he abort quickly, lest he upset the pitcher any further. They realized early that reprimanding Abe meant criticising Mihashi for obeying him. At least, that's how he saw it, and so such outbursts were no longer made.

Mihashi was, in a way, selfless but still selfish. His every action was made toward not being hated. In practice, pleasing everyone. In essence, desperately protecting _himself_.

Abe Takaya had originally planned to use Mihashi as a puppet, but was quickly moved by his purity and innocence when he learned how abused the pitcher had been in middle school. From then on, he decided to devote himself to Mihashi. But he had no idea how to handle someone perpetually generous and fearful. Being trusted was the best feeling Abe had ever had, and knew no other way to repay it than his obsessive, degrading devotion. For high school freshman, this bizarre relationship could pass. But as they grew older, they and those around them became more mature and more aware. And it wouldn't pass for long.

°o°o°o°o°o°

It was a mere year after that fateful, first 100 kilometer-per-hour pitch between Mihashi and Abe, that Hanai spoke up. Loudly.

"Mihashi! You don't need Abe-fucking-Takaya in order to pitch well!"

Every member of the team, including the six new freshman and what was probably the rugby team stretching in left field, fell silent.

"B...but...with...out...A...Abe...kun...I"

"No! No! No! Mihashi! You are the pitcher! YOU do the pitching. It doesn't matter who catches your god-damned perfectly placed pitches. I can not and will not spend another year listening to you degrade yourself. You are our _ace_ and if you want to _continue_ being our ace, you need to _act_ like you're one!"

Even Momoe was too stunned to stop the tirade. Mostly because it was true, but partly because she hadn't expected anyone on the team to grow the balls to say it so soon.

"Hey!" Tajima had shouted, running over to Hanai in a flash of white uniform. He stuck his face in front of Hanai's- which he could now do on account of having grown four or five or a hundred inches over the winter. But before he could continue, Hanai grabbed Tajima's collar and shoved him away, totally unafraid of what was, in reality, a very intimidating clean-up. Keeping Tajima an arm away, he continued.

"What do we have to do, Mihashi? What do we have to say? How do we get it through your head that you are a brilliant pitcher. That you don't need Abe. Abe is not what makes you good. You are."

Mihashi could only tremble in a heap on the mound, much in the way he had a year ago when he revealed that he was only an ace through nepotism. Everyone was so focused on the scene there that no one, save an observant freshman named Satoshi, noticed how insulted Abe had been until he shouted "Fuck you Hanai" as he slammed the gate door closed and stalked off.

The pitcher, now completely catatonic and positive that everyone on the team, nay, in the world, was mad at him, was dragged to the dugout by Hamada and Shino'oka. When they returned to the mound, the discussion was already heated.

"Simple," Hanai said, answering a question they'd missed. "Don't let Abe catch."

"You asshole!" Tajima shouted. "Mihashi is Mihashi, but you can't treat our catcher like that!"

Momoe put her hand on Tajima's shoulder to silence him. She had been the only one on the field (besides the aforementioned Murakami Satoshi, who shared Tajima's unfailing astuteness) who knew that Tajima has not threatened Hanai earlier in defense of Mihashi, but of Abe.

"Hanai. You need to relax. And Tajima is right, you need to admit what you said was unfair to Abe-kun."

"Abe treats him like a five year old!" the captain rebuked.

"Abe," Momoe said, leaning in so only the inner circle of the huddle could hear, "doesn't know how else to show affection." Hanai was immediately taken aback. That was, in his opinion, pretty messed up.

"But what are we going to do about it? Mihashi will never be a confident pitcher if he is so determined that his worth hinges on Abe. We can't stand behind a pitcher like that. What the hell will be do in the big leagues? He can't stipulate in his contract that he will only pitch to Abe."

"That all may be true," the coach said firmly, "and currently, we have no choice but to address it, considering your little display this afternoon. And I will think about it. But right now, you need to go and apologize to Abe-kun. It's not his fault we gave the difficult job of managing Mihashi to someone who wasn't equipped to do it. And you can't talk about him like he isn't an important member of the team."

It was not a testament to Hanai's ability as a captain that the one thing repeating in his head while he walked to the club room to apologize to Abe was "Tajima is right." His complex concerning Tajima had only grown more intense since the third baseman had caught up in height- previously the only thing he could hold, so to say, "above" him. But when he saw Abe, curled and weeping in the corner of the damp three-tatami-wide room, he forgot all about Tajima. It was immediately distressing to see Abe, who was normally stern and composed, actually sobbing over his knees, face wet with tear-streaked dirt, hair wrenched in sweaty fists.

"Abe..." Hanai began, frozen in the doorway.

"What am I going to do?" Abe sobbed. "If he doesn't need me, what am I going to do? How else can I..."

When Abe was done lamenting about how he could possibly go on if Mihashi didn't need him, all Hanai could think of to say was,

"You two are seriously fucked up."

It was true.

Hanai never told anyone what he'd seen that day, and Abe never told anyone that Hanai had never actually apologized.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Mihashi didn't show up to practice the next day, as everyone had expected. They figured it might be better that way, and they could go to his house afterward to explain what they had decided.

"The point is," Hanai said, nervously but with conviction, "we can't have our pitcher continue to think he can only function with Abe as catcher." He paused to look directly at the team member in question. "While Abe is a more than capable catcher- maybe the best I've ever played with," he added, generously, "we know that Mihashi is an amazing pitcher no matter who calls the pitches. We've seen that. But he will not develop into a functioning professional that we can stand behind if we don't make _him _realize that." Abe was silent, along with everyone else, on the other side of the circle. Hanai took a deep breath and scanned the faces in the ring.

"And that's why," he said, carefully, "for the good of the team and the pitcher that will bring us to Koshien, I recommend that we temporarily retire Abe as starting catcher."

Fortunately for Hanai, Abe was not faster than Tajima or Momoe, who ably tackled him before he could connect his fist with the captain's face.

"You're out of your mind!" he shouted. "You're out of your fucking mind! What kind of captain suggests taking out his senior catcher? I'm not trying to be conceited here, but I'm the best catcher! The team will suffer if I get taken out. You know it! What are you thinking, you piece of shi-"

"Abe!" Momoe warned.

"Mihashi needs me! I've managed to keep him from failing every subject that exists, increased his pitch speed by twelve kilometers per hour, AND kept him at a healthy weight when he loses five kilograms per game. If I'm not his catcher, he is going to self-destruct!"

"No," Hanai said, both determined, and incredibly frightened. "That is exactly why you should _not _be his catcher. And why you_ should_ be his personal manager."

Abe's stomach coiled in on itself.

"He may too absentminded to remember to eat, but he can pitch. Don't think for a second that he _needs you _to pitch. He needs you to care about him. And you-" he paused, looking around, and leaned in to whisper in the catcher's ear "...you need him even more. I saw you. You're the one who's gonna self-destruct without _him_."

He leaned back away, raising his voice. "If you really care about him, Abe, you will help teach Mihashi that he is a good pitcher, all on his own."

Abe slowly, vacantly turned to his coach, who, after a silent beat, nodded, sympathetically.

"Shit," he spat quietly, straining to keep emotions in. The world proceeded in slow motion for Abe, as he walked away from the captain through a parting sea of teammates.

"Abe," Tajima spoke up, gaining Abe's attention momentarily. "We have two great freshman catchers. You're right, we are going to hurt a little without you starting. But we're going to do it. We're going to do it for Mihashi. And... for you." Abe turned, unfazed, and continued his march to the dugout. There, he sat with his head in his hands, mind blank, unsure of how he would face Mihashi again.

The team allowed him his space, and no one was as sympathetic as Hanai, who knew that he had just organized and executed the premature removal of their star catcher. Momoe was proud of her team. They were very brave today, and she was astounded that they were organizing in this way, threatening their chances at a championship, in order to correct their friends' personality disorders. She gave Hanai a firm clap on the shoulder to knock him out of his guilty stupor.

"You're a good captain, Hanai-kun," she said. "And you may not believe it right now, but you're an even better friend."

He didn't believe it, actually. He felt like shit.

After a solemn practice (no one was really into it after that skirmish, and the freshmen were mostly totally confused) a handful of representatives- Hanai, Momoe, Tajima, Mizutani, Suyama, Izumi, and Shino'oka- wen't to Mihashi's house to explain the decision. _It could have gone worse._

"Mihashi-kun," Momoe said. "Abe is not going to be starting anymore."

His face was wet with tears instantly. "W...what...did...I...do?"

The team heaved a sigh, unanimously wondering if there was anything Mihashi didn't blame himself for.

"You didn't do anything, Mihashi-kun. We're going to give one of the freshman a chance to catch, and Abe-kun is going to focus on being our strategist, and your personal manager."

"M...my? My manager? But...I don't... understand..."

Hanai spoke up, finding it equally insulting that they were dancing around the true intentions.

"Mihashi, remember when I yelled at you yesterday?" Mihashi immediately paralyzed, remembering too well.

"Well, listen. You're gonna learn that Abe isn't what makes you a good pitcher. I feel bad that Abe doesn't get to catch, because he's really good, and he likes to. But we think he needs a little break too."

Mihashi was making annoying, sobbing sounds, and Tajima took his hands in his own.

"It's okay Mihashi," he said brightly, "we're going to go to Koshien no matter what, okay? You're going to take us there."

Mihashi nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeves.

"A...Abe...*hic*...kun...will...hate...me..."

"No, he won't," Momoe said. "Just keep working hard, okay?"

"It's my fauuuuult!" Mihashi erupted, sobbing. "Abe can't catch- and- it's- because of my personality!"

Everyone turned to Momoe, who shrugged slightly, thinking that they couldn't fix all of his issues in a day.

Tajima squeezed Mihashi's hands. "Mihashi?"

Mihashi looked up at his wide-eyed friend.

"Shut up, okay?"

Mihashi nodded.

Hanai cursed quietly in the background.

When Abe told his parents that he would not be a starter, _it could have gone better. _ His father hollered something about having known that Abe needed to do something about his relationship with his pitcher, but when Abe began crying instead of arguing back, he quickly realized that this was exactly was his son was trying to do. Abe got the kind of hug he hadn't gotten from his father in a long time, and when he went to bed, all he could think about was whether Mihashi was miserable or not.

Around midnight, Abe sent a phone email to Mihashi, and all it said was "I'm sorry."

Mihashi's reply said the exact same thing.

It was enough relief for them to finally fall asleep.

This arrangement, though seemingly traumatizing, would turn out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to them.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 1.

Reviews appreciated. I hope you'll look forward to the next chapter.


	2. The Second Year: Part 2

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 2: The Second Year, Part 2

°o°o°o°o°o°

To everyone's relief, the arrangement did not cause either the pitcher or the catcher to self-destruct. As he had already proven, Abe was an excellent personal manager. While the doting was a little off-putting for the rest of the team, Abe was, in the end, the only one who could possibly continue to raise Mihashi's speed and accuracy while managing meals, weight, sleep, and personality disorders.

After the first few days, even Mihashi seemed to have forgotten that his precious battery had been forcibly disbanded. The selected freshman catcher, Kumai, was stocky, strong, and incredibly capable- he had been the starting catcher at his middle school, and it showed. It did not take long for them to sync. After a particularly long afternoon in which Abe was essentially separated from Mihashi all day as he practiced with his new catcher, the personal manager caught sight of Mihashi holding Kumai's hand, briefly. When Mihashi finally reunited with him, Abe was terse, though he really didn't understand why. Midway through their review of the next matches pitch preferences, Mihashi lit up in understanding and interrupted Abe.

"D-don't feel threatened, Abe!" He said.

"What?"

Mihashi grabbed Abe's hand. "Don't worry. You're not... threatened."

"You idiot," Abe said, more affectionately than he had intended to let on. "Were you even listening?"

"K- k..kumai's hand was cold, so," the pitcher went on, apparently not.

"Mihashi! I don't care why you were holding Kumai's hand!" he shouted, revealing to both that he actually did.

"O...kay," Mihashi said. Abe could have sworn he saw him smile as he refocused on the diagrams in front of him.

Several components of the new team arrangement worked in Nishiura's favor in the first game of the Summer Tournament. First of all, Kumai was unexpected to their opponents, having studied only Abe carefully. never occurring to them that they might have any other catcher. Secondly, Abe's strategic abilities were now shared across the entire team, and not just the battery. Thirdly, Abe had Mihashi pitching 122 kilometer-per-hour pitches. With all the accuracy he had ever had at 101.

The fix-Mihashi plan began working immediately after that first win. While in the past, Mihashi had blanched at the mere suggestion that he pitch to anyone other than Abe, he now worked with Kumai with ease, as well as anyone else he had to practice with. While Abe was still upset that he wasn't able to catch, he was happy that Mihashi had gained the target perspective. But he still longed, deep down, to crouch opposite from Mihashi in a real game again.

After the game ended, the teams bowed, and when most of the team went out to rake the field, Mihashi sauntered over to Abe.

"Thank you...Abe-kun." He said, nervously.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, biting his pride for a moment to add, "You and Kumai did a great job today."

Mihashi unconsciously leaned forward a bit, and looked up into Abe's eyes.

"You're not..." he began.

"What?"

Mihashi shook his head, attempting to abandon the sentence.

"What were you going to say, Mihashi?" Abe said gently, already so much calmer with Mihashi's strange fits after only a year.

Mihashi wrung his hands for a moment, and finally eked out the word "...jealous?"

"Jealous?" Abe repeated, a little too loudly. At that moment, Tajima hopped into the dugout behind them to begin gathering bats. The old battery didn't notice.

"Why would I be jealous?" Abe said, a little too defensively, mostly because he wondered if it wasn't the tiniest bit true.

"Oh," Mihashi said, sadly, eyes downcast. Abe's heart broke in an instant, and Tajima stared, not sure what he'd just witnessed.

Abe wasn't sure what made him say what he said next, other than the deep desire to repair whatever hurt he had just laid on his friend.

"Mihashi. Call me Takaya?"

°o°o°o°o°o°

Hanai was the first to get a girlfriend.

Being captain had helped, but mostly he had his pick because he was unbearably cool and responsible. And the girls thought his head kerchiefs were cute. He would have been thrilled to hold the fact over Tajima's head, except that Tajima, who excelled at being even cooler than Hanai, didn't really care. This was, of course, the young man who had never felt that his sexuality had been threatened for a day in his entire life. Hanai's victory-temperament was dampened, but only until it was time for the training camp they had between the first and third game (having earned a bye for game two.)

It was a hot night, and all the boys were crammed into the familiar, tiny room they would be sleeping in, piled on top of one another, an hour later. It seemed tinier than they remembered, with the addition of the freshman. Almost everyone was crowded around Hanai, who was pleased to be the center of attention, as he revealed the juicy details of his romance. Almost everyone. Abe and Suyama were off on the deck, having established long ago that they were too dull for pillow-talk. One freshman, Saionji Yoshi, was particularly shy and pretended to be reading a manga in the corner, although everyone knew he was listening. The only ones not paying attention to Hanai's sordid tales and had unmentioned motives for not paying attention were Mihashi and Hamada, intently repairing uniforms under Hamada's careful direction.

"Did she use her...um...mouth?" Mizutani whispered. Hanai paused for the sake of building anticipatory drama, and then nodded, seriously, eliciting a chorus of approving "oohs" and "ahhs" from his captive teammates.

"Hey! Mihashi! Hamada! Aren't you interested?" Izumi called.

Mihashi shook his head, focused on his needle and thread. "I'm being useful," he muttered, convicted.

Then all eyes turned to Hamada, who turned bright red on beat.

"What about you?" Tajima asked. "You don't want to listen?"

Hamada put his project down, forcing a nervous smile. "G...guys?" He stammered against an audience of eager eyes. "You didn't...know?" For a brief moment, all eyes, including Abe and Suyama's, turned to Hamada.

"I'm...gay."

Hanai became instantly forgotten, and when the group scooted over to focus on Hamada, he followed suit to probe on the fresh novelty.

"You guys didn't _know_?" he cried, exasperated. When the group began laughing, joking, and asking _highly inappropriate_ questions, Mihashi put down his uniform and stood up. He stepped across the room to join Abe, currently abandoned by Suyama, on the deck.

"Did you know?" Abe asked.

Mihashi nodded, looking up at the stars.

For a moment, the sound of the room full of rowdy, bawdy teenagers disappeared as he looked at Mihashi. He was struck with wonder, pondering how someone so totally oblivious could have detected something even Tajima had missed. Mihashi was full of mysteries, and Abe suddenly wanted to know the answers to all of them.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Game three was easier than game one.

"Ren, ease up on those fastballs. You've got these guys in a corner. You can take it easy for the next two innings," Abe said during the grounds-keeping break. Mihashi nodded, swigging down water from the cooler.

"You hear that, Kumai?" Mihashi asked. Kumai was a friendly and unassuming kid, thrilled to be a starter, and not at all jealous of Abe and Mihashi's bond, on account of the fact that he couldn't imagine handling Mihashi by himself. As the team returned with the rakes, Abe lifted his hand for Mihashi to meet. He wasn't even concerned about the temperature lately, but something was comforting about contact with the skin of Mihashi's callused hands. They smiled warmly at one another, and then Mihashi did something unusual. He turned his palm slightly in order to wrap his fingers around Abe's hand. He gave it a tight squeeze before mouthing "Thank you," and jogging back out to the mound. Abe turned pink and stared at his palm nervously. He suddenly looked around, anxiously, to see if anyone had taken note of the display, but the only one who did had already returned to third base.

Tajima had seen something. He just wasn't sure what.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"Mihashi," Hanai began during the game four strategy meeting. "Do you understand?"

Mihashi nodded, determined and firm.

"You understand that you are an amazing pitcher, even when Abe isn't catching?"

Mihashi fidgeted. Of course he knew, but he would never be so immodest to say so out loud.

"He can't say something like that," Tajima crooned. "He's too modest for that."

Momoe agreed. "I think he understands, Hanai-kun. He won us two games."

"W.._we_...won!" Mihashi spoke up, urgently. While he could easily feel personally responsible for a loss, he would never take the full team's credit for a win.

"That's right," Izumi said. "We won together. With Hanai, and Tajima, and Kumai, and Oki..."

"-and Shino'oka! And Hama-chan!" Mihashi blurted out, careful not to forget the sideline supporters. He turned to look at Abe, staring. "And...Abe-kun." Abe smiled back, warmly.

"Then I recommend to the coach, as captain, that Abe resume as starting catcher for the next game." Hanai paused. "Versus Musashino."

Everyone broke out into cheers, including the freshman who were not yet aware of why this particular team was significant to Abe, and even Kumai, who honestly didn't mind a break because he wasn't a very good batter.

"Hey, now, guys. I only suggested it," he said, waving hands to quiet everyone. Gradually, all heads turned to Momoe.

She blinked, taken aback.

"What? Oh, God, of course, I agree. Abe, you're in." And there was a second roar of approval. Mihashi and Abe exchanged a grin across the circle that looked to Tajima as almost _hungry_. He knew something strange was going on between the battery, and he was obsessed with the fact that he didn't know _what _yet. The battery didn't know either.

°o°o°o°o°o°

When Abe got home that night, his mother greeted him at the door with the phone in her hand.

"Abe-kun, you got a phone call just now."

Abe was perplexed, unsure of who would be calling him on the land line.

"Hello?"

"Takaya!" A familiarly piercing voice replied.

"Haruna," Abe scoffed. "How do you even have my phone number?"

"That's not important!" his ex-pitcher hissed. "You haven't been catching in the summer tournament! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What does it matter to you, Haruna?" He said coolly, pulling off his shoes.

"We play in the next game, dumbshit! Are you starting in the next game, or what?"

Abe knew he shouldn't reveal the answer to the opposing team. He knew that it wasn't strategic to keep them from guessing who was going to start in the battery. But a sick pride rose in his chest, temporarily clouding his sense of judgement.

"Of course I am. I'm catching for the best pitcher in the _entire fucking nation_."

Haruna was stunned into silence by the seething declaration. He knew it was a direct attack on him, having been called "The worst pitcher in the entire fucking nation" by Abe years ago.

"Who?" he finally stuttered. "Who did you get to replace that scrawny blonde?"

Haruna's only answer was a click of the receiver.

Abe knew what he had done was sinister, selfish, and cruel.

But he felt so satisfied, he didn't spend more than a minute feeling guilty about it.

When Mihashi and Abe began warm-up pitches the next day, there was a fresh element between them. Mihashi's face was red with excitement, and Abe could barely contain his enthusiastic praise for Mihashi's pitches. They had missed it. Badly.

Murakami Satoshi approached Tajima in the middle of practice, after noticing that Tajima was staring at the pair.

"Tajima-sempai," he said. "Isn't there something strange about them today? About Abe-kun and Mihashi-kun?"

Tajima knew what he meant, but decided to play dumb, just for now. "They're strange every day!" he said with a laugh. "But they really love catching and pitching. They make a really good team. You'll understand when you see them play on Tuesday." Tajima crossed his arms. He hoped he would understand, too.

In any case, _something_ happened on game day. Something that somehow ended with Tajima finding the battery practically on top of one another in the locker room when the game ended.

But that's how it ended. Much more interesting is how it started.

°o°o°o°o°o°

The team was energized. They had their star battery back. Hanai had proven that he could hit a home run in the last game. Their clean up was at the top of his form. And after watching four of their games, the team was more than prepared with research on Musashino. It had some of the energy the senoir members remembered from the first Mihoshi match they had fought for Mihashi. Today, they were fighting for Abe. And Abe was ready to fight. Finally, they were on the field first- their preferred start.

Mihashi made short order of the first three batters, striking the first two out, and catching a foul tip off of the third. Abe had pressed Mihashi into terrifying them right away, and Mihashi was happy to oblige. Abe was not aware of the rivalry Mihashi carried in his heart against Haruna. He wanted to be a good pitcher like Haruna, for sure, but again mirroring the Mihoshi game, this was Mihashi's turn to show Abe that everything he needed was here with Nishiura. He was flush with excitement. He loved to pitch. He loved to pitch to Abe.

As they hustled back to the dugout, Abe stole a long, taunting glance at Haruna, who was seething from his own team's pit. There was no way, he thought, no way that this scrawny little bitch was Abe's "best pitcher."

Per usual, Haruna did not pitch in the first inning, to the advantage of Nishiura. Izumi was up first, getting on base with a solid center field hit. Sakaeguchi and Suyama advanced him easily, but getting two outs. Tajima dutifully brought Izumi home with a grounder placed well into right field, ending the first inning with his own out, and one run.

Abe and Mihashi were electrified. They were cool and serious, letting the clean up get on base and striking out the fifth and sixth hitter. They annihilated Musashino's final play, Mihashi catching a low pop-up and getting the third out before the fourth runner even got off of third base.

Hanai landed a double play, and Oki managed to get on first. Finally, Abe was up to bat. He stood, confident at home, ready to bring in the second run. But the pitcher was not quite as focused. He looked to his dugout, and back at his catcher. Back to the dugout again. He mouthed the word "time?" to his catcher, who must have shook his head, as he settled into his pitching position a moment later.

Abe brought Hanai home. Oki was thrown out. Abe stole second. Mizutani advanced.

It was two outs, runners on first and third. Nishiura leading 2 to 0 at the bottom of the second inning. Mihashi was up to bat. He faced the same distressed pitcher, who looked relieved when the catcher called for a time out. The Musashino coach spoke to the line judge, and suddenly the loudspeaker came on.

Before she got to the word "substitution," Abe knew. Haruna was coming in. Early. He was coming in to face down Mihashi.

Mihashi wanted to tremble, but he refused. Haruna walked to the mound with determined grace. The corner of his mouth raised in a smug smile, flashing it at Abe as he passed third. Abe scowled back at him. While it was low to launch a direct attack on his pitcher at the bottom of a sensitive inning, it had also been low of him to talk to Haruna they way he did on the phone. This was his retribution. But he was furious that it was Mihashi who would have to face him, out of his element.

But Mihashi was not nearly as disturbed as Abe expected him to be. Mihashi used every ounce of his strength to surpress his shaking, his revealing wide eyes and duckbill shaped nervous grin. He locked eyes with Abe, and to the shock of the entire team, Mihashi bellowed "RUNNER ON THIRD!"

No one could recall a time when they'd heard Mihashi shout so loudly and firmly. But if that wasn't enough, Mihashi pointed his bat straight at the pitcher, and yelled, "I'm bringing him home! And th- there's nothing you can do about it!"

While Momoe made a mental note to reprimand Mihashi for the inappropriate display, she was incredibly excited about his change in attitude. Mihashi was the last person she, or anyone else who knew him, expected to taunt another player.

But he meant what he said. And if he followed through, there was no telling what it would do for the team's spirit. They would surely ride that electricity to the top 8.

He just had to make good by his words. He had committed to a life-or-death duel.

He had to hit Haruna's pitch, and _bring Abe home_.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 2.

Reviews Appreciated, Thank you. I hope you'll anticipate Chapter 3.


	3. The Second Year: Mihashi vs Haruna

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 3

°o°o°o°o°o°

"Why is Haruna coming out?" Hanai said, gripping the railing of the dugout.

"_Why_?" One of the freshman asked.

Kumai spoke up. "Haruna was Abe's pitcher in middle school. Abe hates him because he restricts his pitch count to 80 no matter what."

"No matter what?" Murakami spoke up.

"Yeah. Like, no matter what's happening, he just steps off the mound. So he usually doesn't come in until the 4th inning."

"I'll kill them," Momoe hissed. Everyone on the team jumped. Even Abe felt a little shiver all the way out on the field.

"Momo...kan...?" Hanai quivered.

"Oh my God," Tajima bleated, "_They_ did it! Those bastards must have done something to lure Haruna out early!"

"I'll kill them!" Momoe repeated.

"This is awful! If he's as an amazing pitcher as he sounds like, we'll get crushed!" the freshman, Takahashi, lamented.

"No, no, this is great!" Tajima said, bouncing on the railing, "If we force him to pitch a lot, he'll walk out before the end of the game! This could be cool!" What he was really thinking was that he'd have more opportunities to hit Haruna's pitches.

"Tajima!" Momoe shouted.

Tajima shrunk. Despite being much taller than the coach, he rightfully feared her fists. "Or...it's not cool at all. And...they should consult with the coach before they do anything like that."

"I don't have room for three bodies," Momoe mumbled, as the game resumed.

Mihashi was terrified. But somehow, the fact that he was fighting for Abe empowered him.

"I must bring Abe home," he thought.

He gripped the bat, staring at Haruna. Mihashi knew Haruna would waste no pitches. He would get three chances, and that was it.

"I must bring Abe home."

Haruna wound up, and in the blink of an eye, a high powered fastball sailed over the plate and into Akimaru's glove. Mihashi had held back intentionally. He tried desperately to hold on to the image of the ball, the sense of timing. He felt ready. He would have to swing as soon as the ball left the glove. He would probably miss the second pitch but he was confident he could get the third.

"I must bring-"

The second pitch just missed contact with Mihashi's bat. Two strikes. Haruna grinned, sending a shiver down Mihashi's spine, but Mihashi stretched his arms and shook his head at Haruna, as if to say "Don't celebrate just yet."

The third pitch flew in, right on target. Mihashi summoned all of the determination he'd ever had in his life, and swung. The world spun in slow motion as the bat cracked hard against the ball, sending it flying above Haruna's head, bouncing hard past the infielders and out into the field. Mihashi lost all control of his body. Every muscle had pushed to its limit against that ball and in the moment after, every single sinew relaxed and released. He arms swung wildly away with the motion of the bat, which had flown clear out of his grip to the right. His torso followed his arms, spinning, and crashing into the dirt next to the plate. He landed on his hip with a loud thud. The world went out of focus and silent for a moment, before it all came back with a clap. Something bigger than him crashed into his body, and looking up, all he could see was Abe's desperately exerted, somewhat terrified face.

"SAAAAFE! SAFE!"

The universe stood still, and Abe's whole existance came into sharp focus for Mihashi. His eyes wide with fury, fear, and joy. The sweat in his hair. The flush of his cheeks. The way his shirt hung from his neck, and the streak of dirt on his right shoulder. His labored breaths through parted lips, and the rise and fall of his chest. Mihashi wasn't sure where he was anymore. He closed his eyes, adrenaline withdrawal sapping the last of his will to keep himself coherent. He wanted to take this image of Abe with him to wherever he was going to in that soft, soft darkness.

But what he got was nothing like that, at all. As both Mihashi and Abe were examined by the medical team during the time out, Momoe took no reservation laying into the battery for thier behavior.

"I don't know WHAT the hell you two did to piss of the pitcher but it is going to stop RIGHT NOW or I swear to God you two will never start again! Mihashi, get half a brain and don't risk yourself at the plate while we have a TWO POINT LEAD. What if that had been your right arm? Are you insane? And Abe, why are you not chewing him out for this? You two- what is WITH you two today? Mihashi, you are the LAST person on earth I would expect to TAUNT another pitcher. Are you out of your MIND? I will not have the two of your ruining our reputation in this game. I have never seen you two act like anything but perfect sportsmen until today. You WILL treat this game seriously and you WILL treat Haruna with respect and you WILL NO LONGER treat this game as a school yard fight DO I MAKE MYSELF ABUNDANTLY CLEAR?"

Abe and Mihashi, the latter damn near of puddle of terrified goo, nodded furiously.

She sighed.

"In any case. Good job... with that hit, Mihashi." With that, the rest of the senior members piled onto Mihashi, expressing profound wonder at his sudden ability to hit, let alone hit the pitches Haruna was dishing out. Even Tajima was livid, desperately anxious to hit one himself.

"No sustained injuries, he just stretched it a little throwing the bat," the doctor said. "A little ice and I think he will be fine to pitch in the next inning." Momoe sighed, relieved.

"Your catcher here just scraped himself up a bit, but didn't do any damage. Try not to jump on top of one another anymore, okay boys?"

The two nodded.

"Any substitutions?" the ump asked.

"No, we're sending out the regulars in just a moment."

Before rushing back to the outfield, Abe squeezed Mihashi's hand.

"That was amazing," he whispered, in a tone sweeter than any he ever imagined could come out of his mouth.

Mihashi blushed bright. "W...we should...focus...on the...game...now," he stammered. "N...not...Haruna."

Abe nodded. "I'm sorry to have focused on him so much. Let's do our jobs and let the hitters do theirs."

"Yeah," Mihashi said.

Inning three. Musashino scored two runs, energized by the early appearance of their star pitcher. Nishiura scored one.

Inning four. Musashino scored two more runs, to Mihashi's dismay. Haruna laid into the Nishiura offense, and they didn't score. Mihashi had to take it easy on his hand.

It was tied.

By the time they got to the eighth inning, it was tied still. 6 to 6.

Mihashi and Abe kept their promise to Momoe and to one another. Even when Haruna was up to bat, they remained unfazed- completely ignoring him, much to Haruna's irritation. When inning eight began, the two couldn't withold their excitement. Abe, carefully watchful, had determined that Haruna's pitch count was up to 73. They held Musashino to 6 runs, but just barely, by the time the switch came.

Sakaeguchi was up first. Abe and Tajima were white-knuckled gripping the railing. Where would the last pitch fall?

Ball. Strike. Ball. Grounder to center. Out. 76.

Suyama. Ball. Strike. Strike. Ball.

80.

Both dugouts hushed to silence, all eyes on the pitcher. Haruna looked at the batter. Suyama was unflinching. He didn't know. Haruna looked at the catcher, eyes full of the same desperate worry he remembered seeing in Abe's years ago. Haruna looked at the scoreboard. Tied. Tied for a top 8 spot. Tied for one step closer to Koshien Stadium.

Two dugouts were breathless.

"Is he gonna...?" Tajima whispered.

Finally, Haruna looked at Abe. Abe who had outsmarted him. Who had bested him in psychology. Who had forced him to his pitch count in the middle of a tied eighth inning.

"This is sick," Haruna thought. "This is just sick." He chuckled quietly. "What did I do to deserve all this, Takaya? What exactly did I do? Are you that upset I left the mound that day? The day we lost the top 8?"

"Play!" The umpire shouted, seconds ticking away in silence.

"Fine," he thought. "Fine. I understand. I'm an asshole for doing what I do. Thinking only of myself." He scratched the dirt, and turned, a quick punch of the ball into the mitt. "So I lost to you, Abe. But I won't-" he thought, winding up, "-lose to your pitcher!"

Strike.

The energy in the stadium surged with relief. The relief pitcher from Musashino dropped his mitt in shock. Abe crouched down with a wail, throwing his hands on top of his head. The stadium roared. Only those in the dugouts, and a few on the field, realized what had just happened.

"Tajima," Hanai said breathily, and all eyes went back to home. "Please, Tajima."

Haruna struck him out. Mercilessly. The pitch count was 84. The score was 6 to 6. And it was time for the final inning.

"Mihashi-kun, How do you feel?" Momoe asked.

"F...f...fine! I feel fine!"

"Mihashi," Tajima said. "Be strong! You can take him!" He gave Mihashi a strong slap on the back, propelling him out on to the field.

"No hits," Abe said, walking with him out to the mound. "You can do it."

Mihashi, pink in the face from exertion, nodded.

"But if you can't, don't worry, okay. Keep playing."

"Of course I will, Takaya."

"Keep them from hitting. Our offense will win the game. Just keep them from hitting."

Abe was essentially asking Mihashi what he had asked Haruna on that fateful day. "Pitch your best."

"Taka...ya," Mihashi said. "Count on me."

Abe wanted, very badly, to embrace Mihashi. Again and again, he would say something that filled the catcher with a joy that he couldn't figure out how to express in any other way. But they were on the mound. In an offical game. It would be the worst time to hug his pitcher. He clenched his fists.

"I will."

This was a duel. The pitcher who pitched fewer pitches that got touched by a bat would be the winner. Mihashi could only pitch. He couldn't score, but he could pitch. That was his job. And that is why Mihashi was the best pitcher. He knew what his job was.

The way that Abe and Mihashi connected over the plate during that inning was terrifying. They seemed to dance. Mihashi knew what to pitch before Abe even signalled. His pitches flew at over 130 kmph. None of the Musashino batters could break through the wall that the battery had put up. Each determined that they would be the ones to secure the game winning hit, one by one they were crushed by perfectly placed pitches, always in just the place they couldn't reach or didn't expect. All three walked away from the plate sniffing back tears, collapsing with shame in the dugout. Mihashi had never pitched so brilliantly in his life. Abe had never been so in awe of someone, either. He admired every turn, every throw, every twitch in the pitcher's motion. For the first time, they were truly "One body, one soul."

Mihashi pitched three strikeouts. A pitcher's perfect inning.

As the last pitch clapped into Abe's mitt, the crowd erupted. Mihashi heard Hama-chan's voice in there somewhere, and the shrill of trumpets and a chorus of classmates and mothers. Abe ran out to the pitcher, who's legs wobbled.

"Come on, you have to make it back to the dugout before you collapse, Ren."

When they reached the bench, they both did.

And the final fight began.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 3.

Reviews appreciated. Thank you for following! The end of the battle is near!

•Bonus! Lucky! Nishiura Freshman Roundup!•

Original characters can be confusing. And lame! Who likes original characters, anyway? Here's a quick guide to the ones you've met and the ones you haven't yet!

**Murakami Satoshi**: First Base. Accurate batting. 164 cm (short!). Looks up to Tajima, shares his astute powers of observation, but not his lack of booksmarts or his perversion. Often studies with Tajima and Mihashi, because he is kind of a genius. A bit of a pretty boy.

**Saionji Yoshi**: Center Field. Strong batting. 178 cm (on the taller side.) Admires Hanai for his outspokenness as captain, but is way too shy to approach him. He is the big, quiet one, and is average in all other aspects of life.

**Kumai Goro**: Catcher. Mediocre batting. A well rounded fellow, not as attached to any particular senior, but gets along with Mihashi well enough. Has a crush on Shino'oka. Tajima thinks he's funny and teases him quite a bit.

**Sato Shouhei**: Second Base, or anything. Mediocre batting. Excellent on defense, with a great arm. Gets along well with Sakaeguchi (then again, who doesn't?)

**Mizutani Kaoru**: Pitcher. The "other" Mizutani, of no relation. Nicknamed "Chibi-tani." Best friends with Takahashi. Very skilled, can stand in for Mihashi with confidence.

**Takahashi Kazuya**: Catcher. Poor batting. Best friends with Chibi-tani. Has a good heart, but isn't very talented.

Oh! Oendan? There are a few new cheerleaders, too! Look forward to their introductions in a later chapter!


	4. The Second Year: An Extinguished Flame

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 4

°o°o°o°o°o°

Mihashi drifted away for a minute, recovering on the bench. He knew people were praising him, but he couldn't really tell what they were saying. Words and faces came into focus as he detected more urgency in their voices. There was still the bottom of the inning, wasn't there? They still had to score...but...who was...

"HANNNNNAAAAAAIIIIIIIII!" Tajima shouted. "SCOOOOOOOOOORE!"

With that, Mihashi was fully conscious again. Abe caught him by the back of the shirt before he toppled off of the bench.

"H...Hanai is up?" Mihashi asked.

"Yeah," Abe said. "...then the bottom of the roster."

"The...b...b..."

"Don't worry, Ace!" Tajima said, whipping around. "We're gonna score before you get up to bat, got it?"

"W...what? But I'm..." he counted on his fingers, making Abe cringe. "I'm...fourth! I don't think...I can move my arms..."

"Don't worry, I said!" Tajima grinned. "I've got a feeling."

"That's weird," Murakami said.

"You're weird, shortie! Shut up and be positive!"

Momoe stifled a chuckle, always amused when Tajima had the gall to call someone short.

"He's hitting, he's hitting!" Tajima hollered. The bar became crowded with Nishiura team onlookers.

"HAAAA-NAAAAAA-IIIIIIIIIII!"

Haruna's biggest mistake that day was underestimating the bottom of the lineup. He was confident he could strike out the next three, and the top of Musashino lineup would be up in overtime- he knew Mihashi couldn't repeat the pitch performace he'd given in the last inning, so really, this game was wrapped up. He had already secured the victory in his head.

Hanai, on the other hand, was probably Haruna's biggest threat. Hanai was not the batter he was last year. He had grown- taller, bulkier, stronger, and more determined. He also knew Mihashi couldn't do what he did a second time. And he was grateful. He was grateful to Mihashi for giving him this opportunity. Giving the team the chance at the top eight. The chance to be the hero of the game. Mihashi did his job.

Now Hanai wanted to do his.

Haruna's first pitch was perfect. Fast and perfect. Hanai had a good eye- a great eye, and knew how to time it. The second pitch was excellent. But faster. Hanai couldn't believe that the pitch had gotten faster than the first. But he was steadfast. Two strikes. Two perfect strikes. There would not be a third.

The stadium was almost silent at the moment that Hanai's bat cracked into the ball. It sailed, sailed, high and long.

And out of the park.

"Ren... we won!" Abe said.

Mihashi only stared out into the field, blankly- stunned.

"Ren-" Abe grabbed Mihashi by the shoulders, sheltering him as the rest of the team charged out into the field to smother Hanai.

"Takaya!" He cried, suddenly coherent.

There was that urge to hug him again. He suppressed it. "Let's go! Hanai hit a home run!"

After much to do, a bit of crying and a lot of yelling, the teams bowed- Musashino defeated, and Nishiura elated. They thanked the cheering squad, and proceeded off to clean up and set off.

In the dugout, Momoe grabbed Hanai and Mihashi and yanked them to the side. They faced her, and she crossed her arms, beaming.

"You guys... good job today."

"Thank you, Coach!" They shouted, bowing.

They turned, and the whole team began clapping.

Mihashi felt good. But he was also tired. As he began to wobble, Hanai caught him by the collar and dragged him over to Abe.

"I believe this is yours?"

Abe wasn't sure what to make of the comment, but he nodded anyway.

"Why don't you two go down and change," Momoe said. "I'm surprised Mihashi is even upright. We'll take care of the clean up."

Abe looked at Mihashi. Just barely upright, anyway.

As Abe led Mihashi down to the locker room, a strange feeling rose in his throat. He gripped Mihashi's hand a little too tightly. Was it a sense of foreboding? No. What was it? They paced slowly to their lockers, the bustle of noise from outside the doorway getting farther and farther away. Was it because they were alone?

Standing in front of their lockers, the two stared at one another. There was a lot they wanted to say. But everything that managed to came out sounded a little stupider than they'd planned.

"Ren...I..."

"T..takaya..."

Silent for a moment, Mihashi raised his palm. Abe touched.

"T...takaya...I...really...like...pitching to you."

Abe blushed. "I...Ren...I like...catching...um..." Boy that sounded dumb. It made sense when it came out of Mihashi's mouth. He changed the approach.

"Ren, you were amazing today."

Usually, Mihashi would have replied something like "No, it was all because of Abe-kun," but now he knew better.

"We...were," he replied gently.

Staring into Mihashi's eyes, Abe found his fingers tangling into Mihashi's.

"We..." Abe mouthed. The two of them began to remember what it was like. The absolute electricity of that final inning. The way the universe stopped and the pitches sailed from hand to glove over and over between them. Mihashi stepped back, and found himself pressed against a locker.

"Ah...ah..." he stammered, breath slightly labored. There was something different about they way they played now, after the separation. They were together pretty much all of the time, but when they stepped out on to the field, it was different. When they were a battery, a new, foreign and fantastic set of emotions appeared. Ravenous. Magical.

That was what Tajima had seen. Passion. What they had when they played was _passion_.

Abe felt those feelings rush back. He was pressed against Mihashi now. He didn't know how he got there, but their fingers were tangled, their chests were pressed together, he was pretty sure one of Mihashi's legs was in between his, and Abe's head was lowering slowly toward Mihashi's as if there was no other thing he could possibly be doing. The heat was so intense that Abe thought he might faint. Mihashi's heart pounded so loudly that he could hear nothing else. Guided by whatever raw force was leading his motions, Abe's cheek brushed against Mihashi's, burning and soft, and the blond boy gasped a tiny, amazing gasp. Abe's heart flew into his throat, sure his legs were going to give out underneath him. Moving forward, ever so slowly, his lips barely touched the place where Mihashi's cheek met his ear, when a loud noise jostled them out of their small, frantic, sweaty, precious universe.

"Ah-hem!" came a familiar voice, a clearing of the throat that followed the locker slam that had awoken them. Tajima was facing away from them on the other side of the bench, far down the line. He continued take off his uniform shirt, saying, as if to no one in particular, "Better move. They're coming." Sure enough, as Abe pulled himself off of Mihashi, whose face was wet with tears and red from exhilaration, he could hear the rest of the team on their way down the steps.

°o°o°o°o°o°

When the team finally filed back out to get on the bus, equipment in tow, they found Haruna and Akimaru waiting for them, the latter pacing nervously, obviously wishing he were anywhere else but too afraid to leave Haruna on his own.

Abe handed his bag to one of the freshman, sighed, and approached his old pitcher.

"Motoki."

"Takaya. Are you happy now?"

"What?"

"I pitched more than 80 pitches. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Abe scoffed. "Really? You missed the point that badly?"

"Takaya!" He shouted, "Look, I'm sorry about that game. I'm sorry if I crushed your little dreams of the top eight. The game was hopeless no matter how I pitched. Will you get over it?"

"Motoki!" Akimaru yelped. "Don't make a scene! Please!"

"I'm over it," Abe said. "I don't care anymore."

"You think you're pretty big, all of a sudden?"

"I do. Bigger than you'll ever be, Haruna."

"You still think I'm the worst, don't you?"

Abe looked, coolly, at Haruna. Then he looked at Akimaru, who was clearly exhaused by Haruna's antics.

"Will you pitch over 80 only if the game can be saved?"

Haruna raised his head a little. "Don't be stupid. I understand that sticking so close to the count is a little selfish, but if the game's hopeless, there's no point in my risking myself."

"Then yes," Abe said. "You are."

"What the hell, Takaya? I don't understand what your problem is!"

"It's not my problem anymore!" Abe yelled. "If whether or not you pitch depends on the tide of the game, you're pitching for the wrong reasons. Go ahead and keep on doing it, Haruna. I quit."

"You what?"

"I quit! I quit being your catcher!"

"What are you talking about, you freak! You did that years ago!"

"No," Abe said, sternly. "No, I didn't do that until just now."

"Haruna-san," Mihashi said, terrified. Only Akimaru had noticed his approach. "Who are you pitching for?"

"What?" Haruna replied. "What am I supposed to say? Me? My team? My coach?"

Mihashi clenched his fists. Was that his answer? A question?

"I agree with Abe," Mihashi said. "It's because things are this way...that I..."

"That you what?"

"That I will always be the best pitcher." He cringed. He had never said something so obnoxious in his entire life.

"You-" Haruna began- stopping short after realizing that there wasn't much he could say when he had been beaten so squarely by Mihashi that day.

"That's enough," Abe said, Putting his arm around his pitcher. Mihashi's eyes teared up. "That's enough."

No matter what, as long as he had someone to pitch for, and Haruna didn't...

...he would be the best pitcher.

Mihashi didn't have the vocabulary, or the courage, to say what that meant. That when he was on the mound, there was nothing in the way of the mitt that the ball was aiming for. There was nothing else in his mind besides getting the ball to Abe. Nothing but pitching. Not the score of the inning. The tide or hopelessness of the game. The number of pitches he had pitched. Every pitch was meant for Abe- both physically, and in spirit. Mihashi's job... was to pitch.

Mihashi cried on the way to the bus. It wasn't that cry that he was used to crying, one scared and desperate for escape. When he got yelled at, or was afraid to speak. This cry was different. As they walked, Abe's hand squeezed his shoulder. It made him sob harder. He felt sorry for Haruna. He felt sorry that he might never know the joy that Mihashi found on the mound today. He cried because he had seen a flame die today. The tiny flame that Abe might have held for Haruna, the one that fueled his anger, the one that made him demand, a year ago, that Mihashi never shake his head. The flame that, burning, meant that Abe wanted to make Haruna understand. Wanted to believe that Haruna could understand. But now it had been extinguished. To see it die was one of the saddest things he had ever witnessed.

Abe had been telling the truth when he said he was over it. On that day, when he toppled on top of Mihashi on home plate, all of his hatred and desire toward Haruna Motoki washed away. He knew he couldn't waste another moment being angry towards Haruna when his moments could be better spent cherishing Mihashi.

The team left Mihashi and Abe alone at the back of the bus as they drove home. Mihashi sobbed quietly into Abe's chest. No one was sure why he was crying, and nobody needed to know. Tajima didn't mention what he had seen earlier in the locker room- it seemed like he didn't intend to, either. He did make a hard stare at Abe a couple times, though, so he was sure Tajima was going to question him about it when he got the opportunity.

He hadn't done anything, though. Right? His emotions just got all mixed up with the game... right? He hadn't...

"Ren?" Abe asked. "Are you okay?"

Mihashi sniffed, and nodded his face into Abe's chest. There was nothing to worry about. His actions in the locker room hadn't seemed to have traumatized his pitcher.

"Do you want to sit up?"

Mihashi's fist tightened in the hem of Abe's shirt.

"N...no," he whispered.

Abe felt a flush of heat wash over him, from head to toe. Mihashi...wanted...to be near him.

Abe took a deep breath, relieved that he hadn't hurt his pitcher by pushing himself onto him in the locker room. He would have been right to be terrified of Abe at the time, but he seemed to be fine. Abe gently squeezed Mihashi's shoulder, sliding himself down in the seat so that he could rest his head on Mihashi's.

It wasn't the most comfortable position he'd ever been in, but he was going to savor it for as long as Mihashi allowed.

They drifted off to sleep, in their tiny, perfect bubble of temporary peace and calm. Abe still thought they were just mixing up emotions from the excitement of the day, and he was content as he drifted off into dreams. Mihashi dreamed of roasted bean buns.

The rest of the team was busy pretending not to be eavesdropping on Hanai as he tried to talk to his girlfriend on the phone.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 4.

I'm glad you're all enjoying it! Let's all relax for a chapter before we start playing baseball again, okay?

I think Tajima needs some screen time. I hope you'll look forward to it!


	5. The Second Year: Part 5

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 5

°o°o°o°o°o°

"Aaaah-baaaaaay-kuuuuuuuuuun," came the dreaded voice of the third baseman from the classroom doorway.

Abe swallowed hard, trying not to let his hands shake and he replaced the lid of his untouched bento. Lunch had just started- how did Tajima get over there so quickly?

"Abe-kuuuuuun. We need to have a chaa-aaaaaat."

Abe took a deep breath and got up, no doubt in his mind what he intended to talk about. The two of them quickly shuffled off towards what Abe realized was the science storage room. Tajima knew it would be unoccupied during the lunch hour. He looked at Abe and pointed at the room, an order for him to go in. It was safe to say that Abe was a little bit terrified for his life. It also happened to be one of those fears that was totally warranted. No sooner did he step inside, than he was shoved forward, the door slammed and Tajima had him cornered against the beaker closet, eyes narrow and terrifying.

"What did you do to Mihashi?"

Abe shivered. How he longed for the days when Tajima was still shorter than him. "N...nothing, Tajima. It wasn't anything."

Tajima raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"I mean, yeah, of course. Obviously," he faked a nervous laugh, "obviously it looked like _something_. But...we...just got... emotions mixed...up..with the...game...was...pretty intense..and...I..." Oh God, he thought. This was going terribly. Even he didn't know what he was getting at.

"Did you force him to do anything he didn't want to?" Tajima growled.

"AHH! No! NO, Tajima-that's the wrong idea...we...together...it just..kind of..."

"Ah!" Tajima said, brightening and leaning away. "So it was mutual!"

"Yes... NO!" Abe shouted. "Tajima! It's not what you think!"

Tajima took a couple of paces away, obviously not paying attention to Abe's defense any more.

"As long as it was mutual," he said, nodding.

Abe's eyes widened. Did he really not care that they'd looked like they were kissing? Was he really only concerned with whether Mihashi was being forced or not?

"Did you guys...like..._do it _yet?"

"GAH! Tajima! NO!" Never mind.

"Man, I knew this thing was, like, on the rise, but... I can't believe that in our small team, there's four..."

"Tajima! We're not like that, I said! You've got it all-" Abe stopped short. "Wait..._four_?"

Tajima blinked.

"Uh...Ah. I guess...I shouldn't have said that..."

"Who else, Tajima? Besides Hamada?"

Tajima shrugged and shook his head. "Sorry."

The catcher decided not to press. If Abe didn't know, he obviously wasn't supposed to. It wasn't the kind of thing you'd want spread around, obviously, and right now he was pretty appreciative that Tajima could keep secrets.

"So what _have_ you guys done?"

"Tajima!" Abe hollered, eight shades of red. "How many times do I have to tell you! We're not gay!"

"Whatever," Tajima said. "You can trust me, you know."

Abe took a deep breath. "Tajima. I do. I swear. But listen- I know it doesn't look that way. But I'm telling the truth. We haven't done anything. What you saw was the first time...we...ever got that...close to one another, and...like I said. It was just a weird...thing that happened, and nothing really happened."

Tajima crossed his arms. "Okay," he said, finally. "If you trust me, I guess I should trust you too. But listen," he continued, hand on the doorknob, "If either of you...need someone to...talk to..."

"Yeah," Abe said, filling in the blank himself. "Thanks."

As he stepped out, Abe couldn't help but to wonder. Was it one of the freshman? Takahashi Kazu was a likely candidate, he suspected, only on the team so that he could follow Chibitani around. He shrugged it off. It could be anyone.

Walking away quickly, Tajima checked his cellphone for the time. He still had twenty minutes. Would that be enough?

Apparently. Moments later, Mihashi was a trembling pile of nerves on the floor after being shoved into the same storage room in a repeat interrogation by the cleanup.

"Mihashi, chill out! I'm not going to yell at you," he said, sitting on the counter and kicking his feet.

"T...Tajima...won't..."

"I said I won't. Jeez."

Mihashi looked up.

"Did Abe hurt you?"

Mihashi suddenly flew into a distressed, hiccuping babble again, unsure of how in the world Abe could have hurt him.

"In the locker room, Mihashi. When I saw..."

Mihashi lit up scarlet, memories flooding back to him.

"Mihashi." Tajima lowered his voice into a demand for an answer. "Did he force you?"

"N-No!" Mihashi shouted, shaking his head hard. "Don't be...mad...at...A...be...kun..."

Tajima smacked his own forhead and sighed. Always defending Abe. "As long as you're okay."

"It's not...what...it...looked...like..." he continued to stammer.

"Then...what was it?" Tajima asked, with honest curiosity.

Mihashi grew calm, quiet. "I..." he began.

He hugged his knees to his chest. His eyes drifted wistfully away across the floor, as if he was trying to summon a memory that was slipping away. His cheeks, pink and bright, assisted a longing frown as Mihashi thought. He wished he could answer differently.

"...don't...know."

Tajima sighed, concerned. We're they stubborn, or just stupid?

Or were the actually telling the truth?

Minutes later, Mihashi scurried out the door, face red, limbs twitching.

"Mihashi-sempai," a familiar voice greeted.

Sure enough, Murakami was there, passing by with a stack of books in arm.

Mihashi suddenly forgot his current predicament, and leered at Murakami- gave him that special glare reserved for the people who threatened his position as pitcher.

"Mura...ka...mi..." he hummed, unconsciously. He turned away and dragged his feet down the hall, thinking some ridiculous array of thoughts all centered around how he was the ace and no one would take his position away.

"Jeez," Murakami sighed. As if he would ever get to pitch, he was the _second_ reserve pitcher, after Chibitani- and besides. Mihashi would continue to pitch even if his arms broke off. Somehow. He looked over the door that Mihashi had come out of. Was that a storage closet? He half expected to see Abe-sempai come out after, but was even more shocked to see Tajima instead.

"Y...you..." Tajima said.

"T..tajima...sempai," the freshman stammered. "You...and...Miha..shi..."

"Hey...hey! It's not what it looks like!"

°o°o°o°o°o°

The next game was in three days with Kasukabe. It was barely enough time to catch their breath, let alone fully recover.

The sun was high and hot, cicadas droning in the distance, and the boys kind of wished they could practice without shirts or something. Tajima not the least among them, on account of the fact that he _actually did it_.

"Tajima!' Hanai shouted from across the field. "Put your damned shirt back on!"

Tajima swung his bat a few times before signalling Oki to turn on the pitch machine.

"Make me!" he shouted, cracking into the first ball effortlessly.

Hanai grumbled. Tajima had become so damned _cheeky_ since he got tall.

"Hanai-kun, " Shino'oka said politely, "could you please pass a message on to Mihashi-kun? Momoe says no more than five or six pitches today. Please. When you're done."

"Sure," he said, not really keen on interrupting the battery. He was grateful that they were so good, of course, but they were so dysfunctional they could be their own after-school drama. And when they were pitching together, well. Interrupting them_ then_...

Sure enough, he found them playing catch in one of the pens. And sure enough, when Hanai cleared his throat in order to get Mihashi's attention, Mihashi glared like a lion who's territory has been invaded. And then, quick as it had appeared, the glare vanished, and Mihashi was himself again.

You are such a freak, Hanai thought. Thank God you've got this other freak to handle you.

"Does...Hanai-kun...need...something?"

"Ah, yeah. Momokan says no more than six pitches today." Mihashi nodded, and threw the ball back to Abe.

"I wasn't going to make you throw at all today," Abe said, "But I guess it couldn't hurt for you to move that shoulder just a few times."

Hanai walked off, already long forgotten by the pair.

The ball sailed back to Mihashi, and Abe crouched down. A strange and familiar beast crawled into his stomach- a fierce, satisfying stir that he got when he was about to catch for Mihashi. He thought about what pitch he wanted to see. He wiped his forehead with his arm before putting his mask on. A fastball. Lower outside strike. Mihashi nodded, and Abe set his mitt.

Abe was so well versed in Mihashi's pitching form that the slight twitch in the pitcher's face alarmed him when he pulled back.

He doesn't do that on a fastball form, he thought.

Pushing forward, Mihashi clenched his jaw and turned his hip ever so slightly more than usual, and Abe was so stunned that the ball smacked into his glove, and bounced back onto the ground.

What was with those twitches? He was sure this wasn't right, but decided to do it one more time to make sure.

"Sorry," Abe said. "I zoned out. It's really hot."

"Un," Mihashi said, nodding. Abe signaled for another fastball, to the outside. When Mihashi's eyebrows pulled together, he was sure. Mihashi didn't _want_ to throw a fastball. But why in the world would that be?

The same thing happened this time. The jaw, the hip, the perfectly placed pitch, but with the new addition of the look of terror on Mihashi's face when Abe stood up and stormed toward him.

"Ren! What are you doing?"

Mihashi looked around, nervously. "I'm...not...doing..."

Abe grabbed Mihashi's right arm. Mihashi winced, as expected.

"Where?" Abe demanded.

Mihashi's mouth flapped silently.

"Where, _Mihashi_?" he said powerfully, using Mihashi's family name to show that he wasn't feeling particularly friendly. So uncommon was it, in fact, that Mihashi's last name came out of Abe's mouth, that Sakaeguchi and Suyama stopped what they were doing in the next pen over to watch.

"B...back..." Mihashi began. Abe flipped the pitcher's arm over, brutishly.

"C...carpal..." he continued, bringing his left arm up over his eyes to hide frightened tears. Sure enough, Abe folded Mihashi's wrist, as if he were releasing a pitch, and Mihashi let out a grunt of discomfort.

"You... IDIOT!" Abe bellowed, loud enough to be heard in Gunma.

The whole team froze, silent but for the awkward sound of balls still being shot out of the pitching machine. Oki jumped and shut it off after a few seconds, though. Abe grabbed Mihashi by the shirt and dragged him off to face the coach.

"What were you thinking?" she wailed as Shino'oka put ice on Mihashi's hand. "Why..._WHY_ would you not _say_ anything? How long have you been a pitcher, Mihashi? NO one should have to tell you to report your injuries, let alone _not to play through them_."

Mihashi just shook in terror. He had no excuse. Worst of all, he wasn't shaking out of fear from Momokan. He was afraid- and rightfully so- that he would get pulled from the game, the very reason he had hidden the injury in the first place.

"Was it that hit, Mihashi?" Momoe asked. Mihashi nodded.

"It...didn't...hurt...until...this morning..."

Momoe groaned. Really? Really? Is this what she had to deal with? She suddenly glared at Abe.

"Doctor. Now."

°o°o°o°o°o°

Mihashi was lucky that the doctor had an open appointment so late in the day- at least Abe made that repeatedly clear. They rode their bikes in silence, Abe fuming with anger, Mihashi shrunken in fear.

Then there was that hill. Abe's scowl softened, recalling that period of time last summer, after the Bijou game, when Mihashi had been assigned the unglorious task of pushing Abe up this hill on his bike repeatedly. One look back at the pitcher's face confirmed it- they were revisiting the same memory as they crested the hill. For a brief moment, they felt unified again.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"It's not that bad," the doctor said, pressing the wrist gently. "I think you'll be fine if you just give it about five days of rest."

Five? Too bad the next game was in three. Abe winced at the look of horror on Mihashi's face.

"And if...I don't rest..."

A general doctor would have been off put by the suggestion that a highschooler might not _want_ to rest, but having dealt with many of Nishiura's athletes, he was not phased.

"If you keep bending it, you'll need surgery to correct it. That recovery takes quite a bit longer than five days. Just so you know."

Abe took Mihashi's good hand in his.

"I...understand," Mihashi said.

The walk home was awkward. Mihashi was too depressed to get on the bike, and when it became apparent that Mihashi was just going to keep walking it, Abe found it couth just to go along with it. Soon, they reached the point where the two would have to part ways. The weight between them was heavy with long accumulated minutes of silence.

"Abe...kun. I'm...sorry."

"Ren," Abe sighed, "You didn't lose your first-name privileges or anything."

"T...taka...ya," Mihashi said, just because he could.

"Are you sorry you can't pitch in the next game, or because you lied about your hand?"

"Both," Mihashi said, without hesitation.

The street lamp above them flickered on, settling into a soft buzz. Was it that late? Abe leaned his bike against it and approached Mihashi. A younger Abe would still be yelling, but this one just couldn't yell at Mihashi anymore. He knew that Mihashi was desperately protecting their battery.

"Ren," he said. When he got no response, he grabbed Mihashi's chin and tilted his face upwards. "Ren."

Mihashi stared, unsure of when Abe got so close to him.

"I like catching your pitches."

Mihashi exhaled a slow, shaky breath. "It...makes me...happy..." he stammered, suddenly very conscious of his own hands, but resolving to leave them resting on the bike handles.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Abe continued. Mihashi was seriously unsure if he was talking about pitching or something else.

"I'm sorry...we...can't..."

"Ren," Abe said, repeating the name as if it would calm the frightened pitcher. "It's okay. The top four...would be nice...but..." He moved his hand over to Mihashi's cheek, brushing it lightly. "I'd be much happier if you didn't have to get surgery, so we could work together again in a week."

Mihashi shivered. Did Abe just tuck his hair behind his ear? After a beat of silence, Mihashi summoned a rare bravery.

"W..when...Takaya...t..to...touches...m..me..." he stammered.

Suddenly Abe stiffened, pulling his hand away. Mihashi detected Abe's resistance, and the bravery flew away as quickly as it had landed.

"N...never mind!" Mihashi said, throwing a leg over his bike. He had to run, he thought, before he did something stupid.

"Ren?"

"G..good night! Takaya!" he shouted, pedaling away as fast as he could before Abe could see his tears.

No. That would have been stupid. So stupid! He thought. To tell Abe that it felt good when when he touched him? No, no matter if it was true, that was a weird thing to say to a male friend. His team mate. But it was all Mihashi could think about. He choked on a sob, frustrated, embarrassed. He didn't know or care what it implied about him, but he couldn't shake it. The look in Abe's eyes, the feel of his... he thought, lifting a hand to brush numb fingers over the imaginary seared brand on his cheek from Abe's lips... he couldn't make it go away.

And the secret, desperate reason he had hidden his injury? He had hoped that another game would earn him...another...in the locker room...

No. No, that was stupid. That was a dumb idea. There was no way that Takaya...the amazing, amazing Abe Takaya...would want...

...want to... touch... Mihashi.

Home seemed a million miles away as Mihashi pedaled hard and cried softly in the night.

Many blocks away, Abe was still standing under that buzzing streetlight, orbited by frantically flapping white moths, reliving the feel of Mihashi's hair against his fingers for as long as he could hold on to the sensation.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 5.

Has it really been a whole chapter since Abe and Mihashi have gotten all hot-and-touchy?

Obviously, this needs to be rectified. Oh, yes. Also... baseball. Right.

Thank you for all of your absolutely amazing reviews. I read them all with a fluttering heart.


	6. I am not Ashamed

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 6: Not Ashamed.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Mihashi thought he was going to die. He thought he was going to die a thousand tiny deaths if he had to stay and watch.

It was one thing to feel threatened peripherally by the back-up pitcher.

It was another to watch Abe catch another person's pitches, praising him with "Nice pitch, Chibitani!" and meaning it, Goddamnit.

Mizutani Kaoru was not related to the other Mizutani, but being the underclassman had earned him that unfortunate nickname- christened by Tajima and adopted quickly by the rest of the team to distinguish between the two. He hated it, obviously, as Tajima had resented being short when he was a first-year as well. But Tajima seemed to be getting his revenge on the world by abusing the short players this year, and the tiny pitcher was no exception.

"Good speed!" Abe called. "You have a nice fastball! We can use that!"

Ugh. Mihashi shifted his weight back and forth on the bench. Had Abe felt like this when he had to sit out? He hadn't looked like it. But then again, Mihashi's sense of perception wasn't that good. No, on top of that, Abe was useful even when he wasn't catching- managing Mihashi and the team's strategy. Mihashi was just useless. Useless, and watching a freshman pitch way faster balls than he could.

"Mihashi-kun," Shino'oka said. "Would you like some juice or something? I'm going to the conbini to get a drink for Shiga-sensei. I could pick something up for you."

Mihashi looked at her, then out at Abe, who had just exclaimed, "Nice forkball! I didn't even know you could throw a fork!"

"C...can I come with you?" Mihashi asked, too loudly, failing to hide his desperation. "Please?"

The sun was hot. Had it been four sweltering days in a row, now? They walked along the road, wavy with heat. The ice pack strapped to Mihashi's hand dripped onto the hot, black pavement and any amount of visible distance was blurred with summer haze. Mihashi wiped his brow with the back of his good hand. He wasn't sure if maybe suffering through watching Chibitani pitch might have been less uncomfortable, because at least he was in the shade, then.

"I'm sorry you hurt your hand," Shino'oka said.

Mihashi sighed. He hadn't thought about it when he'd asked to come along, but he really was pretty comfortable with her.

"Th...thank you, Shino'oka-san."

She looked up. "You can call me Chiyo, if you want, Mihashi-kun."

He turned the idea over in his head, ducking under a branch of brush leaning out over the sidewalk. He certainly had no qualms with calling her Chiyo. But he didn't necessarily want her calling him by his first name. It was too...special...for anyone to be able to say. For anyone _else_ to be able to say.

"It's okay if you don't want to," she said. "We're not necessarily close... or anything."

"M...my name..." Mihashi said.

"I'll still call you Mihashi, if you want." She said, suddenly growing the tiniest bit tense. "I... don't mind."

Mihashi nodded. "That... would be good..."

Chiyo took a deep breath. She was feeling guilty for springing this set up on the injured pitcher.

"A...Abe didn't want me to use his name, either," she said, voice shaking.

"Ta- Abe-kun...didn't?"

She shook her head. She stared at her feet as she walked.

"You two...are strange, you know...?" She faked a nervous laugh. "He...lets _you_..."

Mihashi shrugged. Yes. He knew. He really knew. No one else on the team called one another by their first names.

What he didn't know was why Shino'oka was crying, all of a sudden.

"Shin...o...oka...san..."

She shook her head, stopping and wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry, Mihashi-kun, I didn't mean to...start..."

Mihashi put his hands on her shoulders, awkwardly, reassuringly.

"H..hey..."

She shook her head again, looking up, faking a smile through wet eyes. "I'm sorry."

Looking down at the frail manager, Mihashi had a moment of clarity, or maybe stupidity, he wasn't that good at telling the difference. Once it registered what was going on, his heart began to race.

"I'm jealous...Mihashi-kun."

Mihashi exhaled through his nose, slowly, pleading with some force above to make his heart beat slower.

"I...don't like feeling...that way," she went on, through sniffles. "Because you're a good person."

Mihashi understood all too well. Chibitani was a good person too, but Mihashi kind of wanted to kick him in the face. The two sentiments didn't necessarily mesh well.

He let go of her shoulders. "You can feel...that way...Shin..."

She looked up.

"You can dislike me. If you want." This was a major leap for him, on account of the fact that his mission in life was pretty much to avoid being disliked by anyone. He had kind of trashed that record, though, when he'd talked back to Haruna, so, maybe all bets were off at this point. "If you need to...be mean to me. It's okay."

Mihashi had never really sacrificed himself emotionally before, but there was no hesitation as he did it. It was all very figurative...symbolic. He didn't expect Shino'oka to treat him any differently, but he wanted her to know that she was allowed to. That it was okay to be jealous.

"I..." she began, tears rolling again. "I hate you, Mihashi."

Mihashi jumped, suddenly his whole body cold. Despite what he'd said, he hadn't expected to hear those words come out of her mouth, not in a million years, and not to anyone.

She choked back a sob, stepping back.

"When you say something like that...!" she shouted, "you're awful, Mihashi. How could I..."

Mihashi began to panic at this point. He thought he had been handling it well, but somewhere along the way it had turned to shit without warning.

"When you say something like that...it makes me feel even worse about being jealous of you..." she whispered.

Mihashi was definitely at a loss for what to do next. The tender side of him wanted to give her a hug and let her sob it out, but the panicking side thought that might upset her even more, because in this new, backwards universe, being nice made her feel bad. Okay. Great. He threw his head back and forth, as if someone would be there to save him, but they were alone. He decided to just be out with it.

"What...do I do...now...Shino'oka?"

She sniffed one more time, and stood up tall.

"Sh...shut up and help me buy some drinks," she said, marching forward without him.

Mihashi stood, stunned. He didn't even know that "shut up" was in Shino'oka's vocabulary.

Is _this_ what girls were like? Seriously? No wonder Hamada was gay.

°o°o°o°o°o°

When Mihashi and Shino'oka returned, Mihashi looked out into the field. Abe's eyes were following him back in, apparently wondering where he had gone, and probably why he was with Shino'oka. Mihashi wanted to stare back at his catcher, but decided to look away and help the manager distribute the drinks. He wasn't sure of what made him do it, because he really, really liked that Abe was looking at him and not at Chibitani, but he was feeling like doing a lot of strange things today. Maybe it was the heat.

"Yo," a deep female voice said, behind them.

"Chiba-kun," Shino'oka said, "Good afternoon."

It was Chiba Kumiko, Hanai's girlfriend.

"'Afternoon," she replied, taking a seat next to Mihashi on the bench.

"Practice is over in about ten minutes," she said. "Do you want a drink? We have some teas."

"I wouldn't mind one, no. Thank you, Shino'oka-san."

Chiba was not particularly feminine, but somehow well suited to Hanai. The whole team would never forget the day she appeared, on club recruitment day.

"Hamada-kun," she said, "I would like to join the cheer squad."

He looked her over, a little wryly. With her short, black, permed hair, cool, medium build, tall height and dark-rimmed glasses, she didn't exactly seem suited to being a cheer girl.

"I...certainly would love to...have you," he stammered, "But...if you don't mind me saying...you don't seem like the...dance club... type."

"I'm not," she said. "I wouldn't be caught dead in a cheer girl outfit. I want to wear a gakuran."

No one could think of a good reason not to let her, so they did. She looked pretty cool in that black uniform, anyway.

That was what she was like. She was very strong willed, and easy to get along with. She had a wry sense of humor that put everyone at ease. She was responsible, and that was probably why she had been so attracted to Hanai. She was awful at sports, rather opposed to any kind of aerobic physical exertion. But she was very good at English, and the team had a sneaking suspicion that her tutoring sessions had something to do with why Hanai liked her back.

"Mihashi-kun, why are you on the bench? Your boyfriend is out there with another man," she said coolly, pointing with her bottle, then taking a swig of tea afterwards.

Mihashi wasn't disturbed by her comment, it was another part of who she was- she often referred to members of the team as boyfriends, causing Hanai grief most of all, with hilarious results.

"I hurt my hand," he replied, eyes attached to the catcher in question.

"You pitched an amazing game the other day," she said.

"Thanks," he said, not necessarily comforted.

"Pack it up!" Momoe shouted, walking back to the dugout from the infield. The team began pulling off equipment, or clothes, or both depending on which they had on, and gathered balls and bats.

"Chiba-kun," Momoe said, with a nod.

"Momoe-kantoku," Chiba replied.

As the boys filed in, she waved at Hanai.

"You waited?" he said, jogging in to greet her.

"Yeah. Hung out with Mihashi-kun, here."

"Great," he said. "I have to shower or something, can you wait a few more minutes?"

"Of course, if you come back smelling better than you do now," she said with a grin. "Hey," she added quickly, eyeing someone behind him. "Why is your boyfriend topless?"

Abe finally arrived back at the pit, and eyed Mihashi up and down before hanging up his mask.

"Math homework tonight," Abe said straightly. Maybe a little ticked off that Mihashi had taken a walk with Shino'oka.

"Y...yeah," Mihashi said.

"Your place?" He asked, as they walked back to the club room.

"I...if...that's...okay with...Takaya..."

"Does your mom know I'm coming over?"

"S..she's...well, yes...but..."

"But?"

"She's out late...tonight, so...no one...will be home."

"Should we go get something to eat first, then?"

"N...no. She...left..." Mihashi drifted a bit for a moment, locking eyes with Chibitani, who raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Ren?"

"-food. She left food."

Was he staring to Chibitani? That wasn't unlikely. Mihashi felt threatened even when he wasn't being replaced.

"Sh...shower," Mihashi said, "then I'll meet you by the bikes."

Mihashi always ran to the shower to get finished before everyone else came in. Everyone knew why, but that didn't seem to change the routine.

°o°o°o°o°o°

After a dinner of reheated fried rice that was consumed generally in silence, Abe and Mihashi proceeded up to Mihashi's room. Abe had been concerned with Mihashi's behavior earlier, but so far couldn't find a way to bring it up.

Abe sat down and began pulling out books and worksheets form his bag.

"Are you upset that I caught for Chibitani today, Mihashi?" Abe said, not looking up from his papers.

Mihashi toyed absently with his pencil. "No," he lied.

"It's okay if you are," Abe said. "I'd rather be catching with you."

Mihashi closed his eyes tightly. Why did Abe say things like that?

"You're only doing...what you have to. Because...I can't."

"Just because it's what has to happen doesn't mean you have to like it," Abe said. He had already admitted to himself that he had hoped Mihashi was at least a little bit bothered by his infidelity.

"So, one more time. Are you upset that I caught for Chibitani, Mihashi?"

Mihashi shifted his weight again. Abe was always curious how someone as twitchy as Mihashi could sit seiza for so long.

"V..." He began, shaking.

Abe held his breath.

"V..very."

There it was again. That pull. That desire. Abe wanted to lean over the table and take Mihashi in his arms, but he had gotten confused by Mihashi's reaction last night. He was going to say something about when Abe touched him, and Abe had assumed he was going to say he didn't like it, but didn't in order not to upset Abe.

And he kind of felt like a pervert. Not unlike how he felt now, heat rushing up to his face. What was with wanting to_ touch _Mihashi? It was _weird_. But it wouldn't go away.

"H...homework!" Abe said, gruffly. "Get started, already." If anything was going to help this feeling pass, it was math.

Abe and Mihashi worked quietly on either side of the kotatsu. Rather, Abe was working, and Mihashi was alternately staring at the page, and stealing nervous glances at the catcher. Mihashi had realized quickly just how alone they were. They were _alone _alone. Like the kind of alone that didn't threaten ninja Tajima appearances.

After about ten minutes of pretending not to notice Mihashi staring, he finally cracked.

"Ren!"

"Wah!" He shouted, tumbling backwards. "T..t...taka...ya..."

"What is it? Is there something you don't understand?"

Mihashi stared, quivering a little. Technically, yes. But that wasn't what Abe was asking.

"Y...yes," he replied, sitting back up, cautiously.

"What is it?"

Mihashi paused, looking down at his hands.

"The..." he began. He was turning pink. "The...other..."

"What?" Abe said, getting up to sit next to Mihashi and look at the worksheet page. "Where?" His shoulder pressed against Mihashi's, causing Mihashi's heart to race.

"The... locker room," Mihashi finally said. There! He said it. It has only taken him a few days.

Abe shivered. He hadn't expected that. Actually, he had hoped for a quadratic equation. Those were way easier to deal with.

"R...ren..." He begain, mental processes slowly dissolving into panic. Crap. Crap, crap, crap. What the hell was he going to say?

"On...that day...you-"

Abe was running out of time. He had to do something. "Ren," he said, scooting back and bowing his head a little. "I'm...I'm sorry for what I did that day. For what I did... to you."

Mihashi stared, mouth open, silent. When no reply came, Abe lifted his head and peeked up, just in time to see Mihashi's eyes cast down.

"Oh," he finally said, sadly.

Abe was confused. _Oh? _

Mihashi put his hands onto his paper, absently smoothing the page. What was he sad about? He was sad that Abe was sorry?

"I...guess...I was..." Mihashi began, suddenly shaking his head. "No...n...never mind."

"Ren?"

Mihashi shook his head again, and Abe pressed on, grabbing Mihashi's wrist. The one that wasn't injured.

"Ren, tell me," he continued, pulling a little.

"You...don't want to," he said.

"I don't want to...what, Ren?"

Mihashi smoothed his hand over the paper again, inhaling hard before saying, "C...con...tin...ue."

Abe's face burned. "Con..." he started, trailing off as his brain melted into hot fuzz. He shivered, remembering. Simply recalling what little had happened, let alone what could have happened if they'd not been stopped, well...

Abe suddenly became a little frightened of the situation, desire burnign too fiercely within him, and crawled away from Mihashi a little, causing his friend to startle. Mihashi looked at Takaya, into his terrified eyes, and then turned, throwing down his head, hiding it in his arms on the table.

"Ren...I..."

Mihashi shook his head in his arms. "I'm sorry, Takaya...I...guess I don't know what...I'm talking about...I...just..."

Abe breathed hard.

"I...thought it...felt...good...so..." Mihashi didn't finish the sentence, and Abe sat frozen for a long minute that seemed like an eternity.

Mihashi continued. "I'm sorry. I...must...not be...very...pleasant."

"R-ren!" Abe said, crawling forward. "You...that's...not...true!" he shouted, before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth. He slapped his hands over his lips. Did he just admit that he'd liked it?

"T...Takaya..." Mihashi said, hopeful, swiftly leaning forward, and in one fluid motion, grabbing Abe's collar in his shaking hands.

No, Abe thought. This can't be happening. This isn't right.

Mihashi was terrified, but now that he'd made his move, he refused to let go.

"But you still...don't...want...?" Mihashi stammered.

"That's not it..." Abe replied. Actually, he had no idea what was or wasn't _it_. He just knew he had trouble battling that urge to grab Mishashi and smother him. Especially now. To press himself upon him, this strange desire to take his body in and tangle himself in it, crush it, get as close as possible to it. That feeling scared the living daylight out of him.

"Ren... I can't! I'm...a...fraid..."

There was a pause as Mihashi processed the statement.

"Takaya is...afraid?" Mihashi asked, hushed and wavering.

"I'm afraid I might...break you...somehow..." he said, somewhat poetically. Honestly. Unfortunately for him, Mihashi was very good at taking abstract ideas very literally.

"Ah!" Mihashi said, face lighting up.

Abe wasn't sure how it happened, as he was wont to wonder every time he ended up on top of Mihashi (was this really the third time?), but he was sure it was Mihashi's fault this time. The pitcher had pulled the larger fellow on top of him with an ungraceful thud- a tangle of limbs and a sudden shuffle of body weight. He was perplexed as to why this had transpired, but for only a moment, as the scene came into focus.

The room was cool for the dead of summer, for the days they'd been having, especially. A heavy breeze came in through the curtains from the dark night outside. A bell charm rang singularly outside of a distant window. Mihashi was underneath him, sprawled on the cool, wooden floor with his hands still tight in Abe's shirtfront. His eyes were heavy-lidded, hazel-brown irises flecked with gold. His lips looked soft, spread only far enough apart to make room for the tiny, labored breaths to go in and out. His cheeks were only flushed slightly, but were wildly radiant. His chest rose and fell with his little breaths, the red collar of his white baseball shirt revealing only the slightest peek of collarbone.

Before he could say anything, Mihashi jerked his hands and pulled Abe down further, so his full body weight landed hard on Mihashi's. It was doing nothing for Abe's sense of restraint.

"S...see?" Mihashi stammered. "You...w...won't...hurt...me. I'm not...so...weak..."

Is that what he thought? He thought Abe was afraid to hurt him because he was bigger and heavier? Abe's mind raced, lifting himself back up onto his arms to look down at his pitcher. That's not what he'd meant at all, but...this...

"T...taka...ya," Mihashi whispered, closing his eyes.

Don't say that, Mihashi, Abe thought. Don't say my name, not now. Not that, not like that!

"P...please..." Mihashi said, squirming slightly, the flex of muscles in between them bringing the full scope of body contact into shocking clarity.

Abe's mind went numb. Mihashi's breaths were quick, sexy. Sexy? Did he just think that? The color in his face had darkened. Their entire bodies were pressed together on the floor, Abe's legs in between Mihashi's. Abe's heart pounded. They were so close. He couldn't fight the desire to be closer. The one he had been fighting daily. There was no way to withstand it any longer.

"Taka-" Mihashi began, but didn't finish- couldn't- when Abe pressed his face hard into the crook of Mihashi's neck. He let out a small yelp that may have been the "-ya." Maybe not.

"A..ahhh..." Mihashi sighed hard, trembling hands finding their way onto Abe's back.

Abe buried his face in Mihashi, as he'd yearned to for days. His skin, his hair, his shirt, his smell. He wanted to pull it all in. He wasn't aware of the tiny groan he let out. But Mihashi was.

"Takaya-" he heaved breathily, urgently, tangling his fists into the back of Abe's shirt, hiking it up and searching for new skin to touch.

"Mm...mmm," Abe groaned again, running his lips hard up Mihashi's neck and onto his ear. He buried his nose in Mihashi's hair for only a second, and, all restraint out the window, bit down on Mihashi's earlobe, hard.

"A..agh!" Mihashi yelled, suddenly lifting his hips up hard against his moaning catcher.

There was a blank spot between the moment their crotches pressed hard together and the moment Abe was on the other side of the room, gasping for air. Mihashi was leaned up on his arms, still sprawled and disheveled otherwise, processing the look on Abe's terror-lit face.

Mihashi's face softened, his eyes lowered. His pants. Mihashi's pants. Abe gasped. Wet? At the hem of his pants...under his navel. What was...? No. He... had Mihashi...?

Mihashi looked at Abe, processing the fact that he had seen.

Mihashi had come.

Mihashi closed his eyes hard, face twisting into the most severe look of grief he had ever seen on the poor boy's face, or anyone's for that matter. And he began to cry. Wail. He collapsed forward in his own arms, trying desperately to disappear and cried terrified, gasping, heaving sobs.

Abe grabbed his head, unsure of whether the last ten minutes were real or not. Unsure of whether to believe that there as something between his thighs was as hot and hard as it appeared to be.

Mihashi's cries didn't stop. Abe suddenly realized how real it was. How terrified Mihashi was.

"R..ren...please..." he stammered, reaching forward helplessly.

"I'm sorry," Mihashi squeaked. "Taka..." his words dissapeared in the sobs.

"Ren...don't..."

Mihashi choked hard, heaving, and gasped. "I'm so...disgusting!"

Digusting?

"I won't...I won't do it again, so please...please don't hate me! Takaya!" He wailed. "Oh...God..."

Abe crawled over to Mihashi and pulled him into his arms. Mihashi resisted, fought. He didn't want Abe to touch him. He twisted, hit, struggled. He was too dirty. But Abe was stronger. He yanked Mihashi against his chest, forcefully, cradling the fragile pitcher with his whole body, and leaned against the bedside. He wrapped his arms around him hard, as if he could somehow contain the heaving spasms in Mihashi's body.

"Mihashi, it's okay!"

"I'm...so...stupid..." Mihashi sobbed. "I'm...so...awful..."

Abe clutched his friend's head close, rocking back and forth just a little.

"No, Ren, please..."

"Don't leave...Takaya..." Mihashi sniffed. "Please...I...won't...a...again..."

Abe rocked Mihashi intently, stroking his wild, bright, tousled hair, and the long curve of his shuddering back.

"I won't leave, Mihashi," Abe said softly. "I won't leave. Ever."

Mihashi continued to cry for a long while, resigned to the fact that Abe was not letting him go, until, ten or a thousand minutes later, with a last few tiny, pathetic sobs, he cried himself to sleep in Abe's arms.

Exhausted, Abe lifted his pitcher, his terrified, beautiful, fragile friend, into his bed. He tiptoed down to the bathroom, and after splashing his face with cold water about a hundred times, he found a washcloth and wet it with warm water. Back upstairs, he unbuttoned Mihashi's pants, and proceeded to clean him off, gently and carefully, so as not to wake him. Abe couldn't feel disgusted. He needed to take care of Mihashi. He needed to do a better job of it. And he never, ever wanted to see that look on his pitcher's face again. He would never pull away from him again. They both wanted to touch each other. It was going to happen again, and _this_ was probably going to happen again, and he would not be ashamed of it. He would make sure Mihashi wasn't ashamed of it, either.

After cleaning him off and tucking him in, he pulled a cot out of the closet, and crashed into it. It didn't take him more than thirty seconds before he was out cold.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"Reeeeeeeeeeen!" Came a familiar, high pitched cry.

Mishashi batted open bleary, puffy eyes. Sunlight. Clothes? Bed. Mother.

"Reeeeeeeeeeen! Are you awake?"

Clothes. Wearing his clothes. Abe! He jumped up.

"I...I'm awake! D...don't come in!"

"Okay," she said from behind the door. "Hurry up or you'll be late!"

Slowly, with dread, he leaned over to peek at the floor.

"A...agh!" he shouted, crawling back against the headboard. Abe was still here!

The catcher in question lifted his head. He felt heavy. Sleepy. Did Mihashi just shout something? He sat up and looked up into the bed. There he was, trembling under the covers.

Abe sighed. It was okay. He could handle it. He sat on the bed next to the shaking, hiccuping mass of linen, the mattress giving in deep against his weight.

"Ren," he said, gently. There was no reply, save for a little terrified gasping.

"Ren, I'm not going to go away. You're going to have to come out."

The shaking relaxed a little, but still nothing happened. Abe sighed and pulled the covers off of Mihashi's head.

"Ren. Look at me."

On the contrary, he had his eyes closed tightly, painfully, as if Abe wouldn't be able to see him if he continued on that way.

"Ren!" he said, grabbing his face with both hands. "Come on! Stay with me, here!"

Mihashi blinked, his cheeks red, eyes wide, finally.

"T...Takaya...is...still...here..."

"Of course I am, Ren," he sighed, relieved.

"I will always be here. Always, okay?" Abe pressed his forhead against Mihashi's.

"Takaya!" He said, shrilly, tears starting again. "How..after last night...how can you...?"

Summoning just about every ounce of courage he had in his entire body over his entire life, Abe leaned in and pressed his lips hard against Mihashi's. It didn't last long, and Mihashi was frozen against it, shocked beyond belief. Pulling away, he said "Ren, just believe me when I say that everything's fine, I don't hate you, I'm not disgusted by you, and I'm not ashamed of what I just did."

Mihashi stared, exhaling slowly.

"You..."

"But right now, we have to go to practice. So get yourself together, get your clothes on, and let's go. Don't worry. Everything is fine."

Abe got off of the bed, and proceeded to gather up the futon and put it back into the dusty closet he had found it in.

Mihashi slowly thawed, reality slowly creeping in on him. He raised a hand to touch his lips, when suddenly Abe shouted his name, calling him out of his trance.

"Yes!" he said, getting up.

He didn't entirely understand what was going on, and for a second wondered if last night was a dream, or a nightmare, or not. But his lips tingled with the memory of Abe's kiss, and his cheeks burned at the recollection of Abe's words, "I'm not ashamed of what I just did." And, focusing on that alone, he pulled himself together, and started his day.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 6.

Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaa! D...do you know how stressful it is to write these two? They are crazy!

Finally. Finally! Okay. Sports time. Needs more baseball. Okay. *passes out*

Thank you everyone, as always!


	7. Progress

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Progress

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT DESCRIPTIONS OF HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONS.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Hanai had his job as captain cut out for him.

As he entered the gates for morning practice the day before the 6th match of the summer tournament, he immediately began scanning the field for the presence of the usually starting battery. He had seen Abe and Mihashi's clothes and bags in the club room, in their usual corner, yet the owners of said belongings were no where to be found on the field.

"HA-NA-III!" came a familiar voice, punctuated with a forearm to the back of his neck.

"Ugh! Tajima!" he scowled, huddled over, "can't you greet people like a normal human being?"

Tajima seemed to not notice that Hanai was talking to him and proceeded across the field. "HA-MA-DAAA!" He continued. Hanai shook his head.

"Augh!" he heard Hamada shout, and Hanai looked up in time to see Tajima finishing his signature noogie on the cheer captain. "Can't you say 'good morning' like a normal person?" The blond was bleary-eyed, even a year later not yet accustomed to those 5AM practices.

"Aww," Tajima lamented, throwing a well tanned, well toned arm over Hamada's neck. "None of you guys appreciate my spirit."

Oh, Hamada thought. He _appreciated_ it all right. That was the problem. While Tajima was not his type at all (he liked them smaller, darker haired, and angrier. Izumi often came to mind at opportune times at night, because the freckles were a really nice touch,) the clean up hitter was unbearably well-formed, and his late habit of practicing shirtless was rather distracting. He was grateful for the opportunity to end it, today.

"Hey, Tajima," he said, "about today."

"Yeah?"

"Can you keep your shirt on?"

Tajima considered this thoughtfully. "Probably not, why?"

Hamada twitched. "The cheer team is...coming today. I thought that...the girls...might..."

Tajima's eyes widened. At that very moment, the girls in question announced themselves at the gate before proceeding towards them. The third baseman eyed Hamada up, communicating something along the lines of 'are you out of your mind?' and immediately made for the hem of his shirt, seeing this as exactly the situation in which he _needed_ to be topless.

"TAJIMA!" Hanai shouted, clipping him hard on the head with his mitt, and sending the cleanup crashing into the dirt.

"Ughhh...okay...I get it..." Tajima mumbled.

Tomoi and Ogawa approached with their kouhei in tow.

"Good morning," they said together, and the boys greeted them back. Chiba was behind the sempai with the only new cheer girl, Sasaki Keiko, who happened to be her best friend since childhood. Sasaki was very much the opposite of Chiba- spritely, cheery, sweet and innocent looking. And, to Tajima's delight, she kept her hair in two tiny ponytails next to her ears.

"Yo," Chiba said, meeting eyes with her boyfriend. Hanai smiled and stepped forward to meet her.

"Hey."

The boys resisted the urge to coo "oooOOOoooo" at them, because last time they did that, they had the most painful practice they'd ever experienced in their life at Hanai's hands.

"Don't just stand there and stare at me," she said, a tiny grin hiding in the corner of her mouth. "Go do your job, captain."

Hanai looked around cautiously before leaning in and whispering, "Yeah, and part of my job is keeping Tajima off of the new girl."

She smiled. "Tajima!" She shouted, "Take your boyfriend here back to the dugout before he starts making out with me on the field."

Hanai blanched. "Y...you...evil..." and then on cue, Tajima bounded by, dragging Hanai away on impact of a perfectly placed clothesline.

Chiba gave Hanai a wide-eyed grin a thumbs up as he was dragged off.

Hamada twitched. "Chiba, you're...scary...sometimes..." trailing off as the rest of the ouendan filed in.

Tajima dragged Hanai away, continuing his shouted greetings to all the newly appeared players. Hanai only snapped out of his dizziness when his captor shouted "Oi! Mihashi! Abe!"

Hanai scrambled on to his feet, and Tajima happily let go and wandered away, presumably to do something much more interesting. Mihashi and Abe had indeed just appeared through the threshold of the gate, but where had they been for fifteen minutes? Abe looked like his usual self, but Mihashi was...was Mihashi glowing? Yesterday, Mihashi had looked absolutely suicidal with misery on the bench as he watched Abe practice with another pitcher. He couldn't fathom what could have happened between then and now for Mihashi to look so..._happy_. But fine. Good! If Mihashi was in a good mood, that certainly made his job easier.

"Ah, are the cheergirls practicing on the field today?" Sakaeguchi said, stretch mats under his arms.

"Oooh, it'll be hard to focus," Mizutani said.

"It'll be even harder for the captain, right, Hanai-kun?" Sakaeguchi said with a smile.

"G...go and stretch, idiots..." he mumbled.

Practice was way easier for Mihashi this time around. He hummed happily as he rubbed down the baseballs, impervious to the fact that Abe was catching Chibitani's pitches. He was also impervious to the cheer girls, but that went without saying. Hanai was not the only one to have noticed Mihashi's improved, no, _disturbingly happy _mood. Shino'oka and Momoe noticed right away, but really didn't feel like bringing it up if it meant Mihashi was going to survive sitting out a game without incident.

It was only about an hour ago, when that thing happened that put him in such a good mood. Abe had seen fit to do a little damage control regarding last night's little fiasco, and after they changed into their uniforms, he asked Mihashi to follow him out to the field. Out behind the field, a few meters beyond, began a series of wooden sheds that everyone was aware of, used for storage. It was five in the morning, so Abe thought it would be pretty safe to steal a moment alone there in safety.

The morning was humid but still cool, the way it was for only about a half hour before the rising sun began baking the earth. Every single bit of nature was dewey, and the taller grass left wet streaks on their ankles as they made their way to the sheds.

They went into the second one, Abe pulling the chain above his head to switch on the light, and closed the door behind them. Mihashi was darting around nervously. Abe sat down on a crate and leaned back, anxious for that to stop.

"Ren. Chill out. We only have a few minutes."

Mihashi slowed down gradually, and when he finally came to a stop, assumed a seat across from the catcher.

"Last night was... kind of scary for you, huh?"

Mihashi instantly began to tremble, remembering too well.

"I'm sorry it was scary," he went on, "but..." he grit his teeth to get his bearings. "But I...liked it, Mihashi. I liked it that...you came." Abe's eyes were shut tight, wincing at the fact that he had said something like that out loud, even if it was true. When Mihashi didn't reply, he opened his eyes and the pitcher was no where in sight.

"Ren!" He shouted, standing up- and upon doing so, saw that Mihashi had just fallen over behind the box he'd been sitting on, decidedly catatonic.

"Ren! Ren, get up," he shouted, grabbing the pitcher by both hands and yanking him upright. "Hey! I'm not done yet! Wake up!"

Mihashi blinked for a moment, reprocessing what had just happened. Once he'd caught up, he lit up red, eyes wide.

"Okay, good enough. Listen," Abe went on. "Today. I know you don't like having to watch me pitch for Mizutani, but listen," he paused to grab Mihashi's face, "Mihashi, you will always be my ace, okay? Don't let it get to you."

"Always?"

"Always." Abe almost got pulled in by Mihashi's wondrous, round eyes, but leaned back again.

"Takaya..." Mihashi whispered, closing his eyes and smiling. Abe ruffled the pitcher's hair lovingly.

"Can we...just a little..."

"Can we what?" Abe asked.

"Can I...touch you?"

Abe's cheeks caught fire. Mihashi's hands wandered over to Abe's shirt collar.

"Ren..." he said, aching with restraint, "if we get too excited it will be...hard for us...to return to practice..."

"Just...a little..." Mihashi said, closing his eyes and leaning in.

"Ah..." Abe said, relenting easily. "J...just a little."

And with that, Mihashi's mouth was on his, pressing gently at first, then sliding sideways across his cheek. Abe stood up, lifting Mihashi with him, and he wrapped his arms around the little blond's back. Mihashi was suckling on his neck now, eliciting the tiniest of little sighs from Abe, who was technically being romanced for the first time, having been the initiator in all of their other encounters. Mihashi came back to his mouth, pressing lips firmly upon soft, dewey lips. "Mmm," Abe grunted against them, pressing his tongue against Mihashi's lips to plead them open. They parted easily, and their tongues crashed together awkwardly before finding a rhythm to the exploration. Mihashi, on his toes, took Abe's cheeks in his hands, as if it would help his tongue reach farther in. The kiss was slick, messy, and wanton- the first real one they'd shared- and they enjoyed it immensely. Mihashi's hands moved up to tangle in the back of Abe's hair, earning a satisfied moan from the catcher, who proceeded to grab Mihashi's buttocks firmly in both hands and grind himself hard on his partner's crotch with another intense moan.

"Ah!' Mihashi shouted, pulling away, panting. "Takaya," he said, with surprising clarity, "that is not just a little!"

Sure enough, Abe became aware that both of them were plenty aroused already, which was contrary, honestly, to Abe's original plans.

"Shit," he said, backing away. "I screwed that up."

Mihashi was one step ahead of him. "I could..." he said, reaching for Abe's pants.

"Agh! No!" He shouted. He started to think that Mihashi was a bigger pervert than Tajima. "Not here, okay?" He turned away, unable to look at the deceptively sweet-faced little demon anymore. "Look, we should just cool off and go back to practice before someone notices that we're missing."

Mihashi sighed. "O..okay."

And so, the two of them silently employed whatever erection-subduing techniques they could summon. Abe's involved Shigapo talking about dopamine and alpha-waves, and Mihashi's had something to do with big carrots in his curry.

"We better go," Abe said, after a couple of minutes.

"Yeah," Mihashi said.

And then came the deciding move.

"Ren, I'm sorry it got out of hand in here," Abe said, wincing at the unintentional double-entendre, "But, if you can behave yourself during practice, maybe we could finish after school."

Mihashi's eyes lit up. He was either deceptively innocent, or incredibly simple.

"You promise?"

And so, one promise of a make-out session later, Mihashi was humming a tune while performing dugout grunt work that was decidedly undeserving of song.

°o°o°o°o°o°

All was well until lunchtime, when Tajima planted himself square across from Mihashi over his desk and stared. Hard.

"Hmm?" Mihashi said, setting his bento lid aside. "Tajima?"

Tajima frowned. "What the hell?"

Mihashi looked around. He caught Hamada's eyes for a moment before the cheer captain turned away quickly as if he was not paying attention. Mihashi read this is resentment.

"Did...I...do something...wrong...Tajima...kun?"

Tajima twitched. "N..no, Mihashi. But something is different about you today...and it's freaking me out."

"O...oh," Mihashi said inwardly, picking up and eating a tiny octopus-shaped hot dog. "I've..h...had something...on my mind, I guess..."

"Something?" Tajima asked, leaning in. "What kind of something makes you..._smile_ like that all day. It's...really creepy."

"C..creepy?" Mihashi stuttered.

"Ah, well," Tajima looked away, not sure how to explain to Mihashi that this was not abnormal, as everything he did looked kind of creepy.

"Sorry," he said. "It's just...not..usual. Before a game you have to sit out? To tell you the truth," he said, refocusing, "I just really, really want to know what the hell. Just to put my mind at ease, cause as far as I know, you're planning to murder Chibitani before the game tomorrow. _That's_ how wierd this is, okay?"

Mihashi didn't miss a beat, popping some pickled vegetables and rice into his mouth.

"If I killed Chibitani," he said, with zero remorse, "we'd be disqualified from Koshien."

Tajima and Hamada stared, shivering at the way he said it so matter-of-factly.

"Mi...hashi..." Tajima trembled, "That's not..."

"Anyway," Mihashi said, unphased, "It's okay that I'm not pitching tomorrow, because Abe promised I would always be his ace."

Tajima raised an eyebrow. _His _ace? Not _the_ ace? Mihashi was never been so easy to accept verbal reassurance, especially in the face of actually not pitching. Tajima was still ill-at-ease, but was sure he wasn't going to get any further information. Besides, he was hungry. As he turned away to find his own lunch, Hamada sighed in the background, dissapointed at the lack of juicy details.

°o°o°o°o°o°

When the final bell rang, Mihashi's teammates didn't even have the chance to say goodbye before he had flown out of the room. Since it was the eve of a game day, they were under strict orders to go home and rest instead of hold a practice. Mihashi had the intention of doing neither.

Abe was face to face with the beaming, bouncing pitcher as soon as he stepped out of his classroom.

"R...ren...?"

"You promised!" He said, instantly.

Abe's jaw dropped. He hustled the pitcher against the window and grabbed him by the back of the neck. "Have you been thinking about _anything else_ all day?" he hissed.

Mihashi looked up with fear. He had done something wrong. "N...no?"

Abe frowned. The enthusiasm was encouraging...but...

"Ren," he said, guiding Mihashi down the hall with a hand on his upper back, "there's a problem."

"P...problem..." Mihashi sniffed.

"Shh!" Abe said, reminding his partner that they were still in a crowded school hallway. "We haven't thought about..._where_..."

Mihashi's heart sank. His mother was home today, of course, as they would both be expected at their respective homes on a game night.

"N...no..." Mihashi said, trembling, eyes beginning to water. "M...my promise..."

"Ren!" Abe hissed. "Keep it together, okay?"

Mihashi nodded dutifully with a sniff.

Once outside, a sullen Mihashi followed Abe to the club room, where Abe had said he needed to go to retrieve his mitt.

"I'm sorry, Mihashi," he said, rummaging through his belongings for it. He stood up with his mitt in hand. "I guess we just have to wai-"

But Mihashi was having none of that. He silenced Abe's nonsense with a well-placed, open mouthed kiss. The force propelled Abe against the wall, and, panicked, he pushed Mihashi off by the shoulders, mitt flopping to the ground, forgotten.

"Ren! You can't! We can't! Not in here!"

Mihashi looked up with a surprising air of composure, and with a gentle, uncharacteristically defiant squeeze to Abe's genitals, declared firmly that he _could_ and they _would_.

"Uggh," Abe grunted. That was a cheap shot. Mihashi straddled Abe's right leg, pressing himself against it. As Mihashi went for Abe's neck with hard, satisfying licks, Abe wondered if this was the same timid Mihashi who had been pitching to him for over a year.

Another, slightly tighter squeeze to his hardening package quickly put any concerns over Mihashi's identity out of his mind.

They quickly forgot to care that they were in the club room, into which any member of the team could walk at any moment. Mihashi's left hand was tight on Abe's lower back, pulling his shirt hem out of his waistband little by little, and he continued massaging the space between Abe's legs with the other, all the while grinding hard against Abe's thigh.

"Oh...God...Mihashi..." Abe heaved breathily, clawing up Mihashi's shirt in order to rub his desperate palms over Mihashi's bare back.

This is bad, Abe thought. But it felt too good. He couldn't fathom what had warranted this sudden complete lack of decorum on the part of the usually reserved pitcher, but as Mihashi let go of the catcher's pants and began furiously working buttons and zippers open, he really, _really_ didn't care.

Abe pressed Mihashi off gently, and carefully sat down on the ground, back against the wall. He propped his knees up and beckoned for Mihashi to sit on top of him.

Penis in hand rather awkwardly, Mihashi knelt down, straddling Abe's waist, and Mihashi sat face to face with the catcher, quite embarrassed.

"It's okay," Abe said. "Go ahead."

Mihashi closed his eyes and began pumping himself, slowly. Abe cooed satisfactorily as Mihashi's scrotum rubbed rather unintentionally against his own exposed length. Mihashi arched his hips forward, leaning his weight against Abe's knees. Abe refrained from touching himself, opting rather to reach forward and lift Mihashi's shirt, palming and appreciating the light skin of his chest and abdomen as it heaved over him with each pump.

"Ugggh..." Mihashi groaned wantonly. "T..Takaya..."

"Ren...oh God...Ren..." Abe was dizzy with heat, watching the pitcher groan and writhe on top of him while pleasuring himself. It was a blurry, sweaty torrent of pink skin and blond fuzz, and very soon a mess of sticky white come on his stomach.

"Ah...Ahhhhh!" Mihashi shouted, most definitely too loudly for their location.

Mihashi went limp, and leaned his body forward on the catcher, dropping his face against Abe's shoulder.

Abe breathed hard, erection almost numbly engorged at the display.

"I'm...sorry..." Mihashi breathed.

"Don't be..." Abe said.

"but...on...you..."

"Doesn't matter, Ren," he said, finally touching himself, unable to bear waiting any longer.

Mihashi sensed the shift of placement and looked down.

"Takaya...let me...?"

Abe grunted his approval, and a very wobbly Mihashi stood up, tucked himself in, and stepped back, leaning down on all fours to put his face between Abe's legs.

"Ah...R..Ren! Like...that?"

Mihashi didn't seem to be interested in talking, and, wrapping his arms around Abe's thighs, took the head into his mouth gently.

"Oh...s...shit...R...ren..." Abe stammered, writhing.

Mihashi expertly pulled the length into his mouth, tracing fast, hard circles against the base with his tongue as he sucked.

Abe was immediately pushed to the edge and came hard in Mihashi's face.

"Agh!" Mihashi yelped, pulling back and closing his eyes hard as the mess spurted on to him.

Panting and numb, Abe reached for a tee shirt that was carelessly thrown next to them. He didn't care whose it was or why it was there, but it was trash now, and he rubbed a corner gently on Mihashi's face to clean it before proceeding onto his own stomach. They stared away from one another, breathing hard, unsure of what was supposed to be said after coming all over one another.

"We should go, before..." Mihashi said.

"Yeah."

The two of them managed to stand up, arrange and tuck back into a presentable appearance. As Abe put the lock back on the door, spinning the numbers away from 8/7/1 randomly, Mihashi spoke up, in a quiet voice.

"Did...Takaya...like it?"

Abe whipped around, unbelieving. Yet all he could manage to reply was something akin to a "buh?"

He blinked for a moment, and whispered, "R...ren. It was...ugh..." He smacked a hand to his face. Now that they were dressed and upright, talking about particular explicit acts was a lot more difficult.

He took a deep breath. "The...part...with the tongue, Ren...it..."

Mihashi lit up.

"Was...especially...w...where did you...learn...? Was it...from Tajima...?"

Mihashi shrunk just a little. "N...no!" he said.

Not _Tajima_, he thought.

"W...well...never mind," Abe said, at his breaking point of embarrassing conversation. And the two walked off for a long ride home, a long night, and a break into the day of the 6th game of the summer tournament.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 7.

Everyone happy now?

We need to get back to the fact that baseball needs to happen.

Thank you everyone, as always! Reviews appreciated!


	8. A Silent Step Back

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 8: A Silent Step Back

°o°o°o°o°o°

"'Ruri-chan' is your cousin, right, Mihashi?" Tajima said, buckling his belt.

Mihashi jumped. Tajima, he, and Abe were the only ones left in the locker room before the game.

"Y...yeah," Mihashi said. "You haven't met her...yet?" he continued, thinking hard as to whether anyone on the team had.

"Ren, I think I'm the only one that's really met her," Abe said. "But I think everyone's seen her at least once."

Tajima slammed his locker shut. "Does she have a boyfriend or anything?" he asked.

Mihashi was seriously confused, and his silence showed it.

"Like, if you set up a date for her, would she be upset?"

"Ah...I...don't know..." he stammered. He understood the question but wasn't sure why Tajima was asking. "Maybe... it would be... okay?"

"Great!" Tajima said, slapping Mihashi on the shoulder. With that, Tajima was gone up the steps to the dugout.

"Ren," Abe said.

Mihashi looked over, suddenly calmed, and instantly forgot about Tajima's wierd questions about Ruri. He put out his hand and Abe took it gently.

"It's cold," Mihashi said.

"I want to get to Koshien."

"Me too," Mihashi replied.

"I'll play well. And we will win. So that we can be a battery in a top four game, okay?"

Mihashi squeezed. Abe was always caring for him.

"Thanks."

The thought of a top four game was more than a little exciting for Mihashi.

However, at the bottom of the third, that optimism was getting a little harder to maintain. Partially because watching Abe catch for Chibitani in an official game was a lot more excruciating than a practice game, but mostly because they were losing, 4 to 2.

Leaning over the dugout bar listlessly, he ruminated over why official games were so much different. Though they practiced every day, stepping up on a field, under all those eyes, pitching to Abe, that was-

Mihashi blinked. Voyeristic? He shook his head. No, that's just creepy.

Not that their whole relationship wasn't a little creepy to begin with.

"Come on, cheer up," Tajima had said before running out to assume his position on third. "You told me about it-" he whispered, "he promised you'd always be his ace, right?" Yes, it was very comforting in theory, but watching the team take the field for a third time without him was just not lifting his spirits in the slightest.

Chibitani struck out the first hitter, but that was last in the Kasukabe batting order, so he would face the lead off next.

"Nice Pitching!" Abe shouted. Mihashi's skin tingled.

He's not saying it to you, stupid, Mihashi thought.

Next was a clink of the bat. The lead off didn't fall for the first ball, but made contact with the second pitch- a fastball, squarely. It was a home run.

"At least there wasn't anyone on base," Nisihiro observed unhelpfully.

Mihashi watched Abe's gaze linger on the distant spot where the ball had sailed away wistfully, as if the top four was sailing away with it.

Kasukabe made one additional run before Chibitani could get a third out. It was 6 to 2.

Which was more than a little devastating.

Luckily, more than one team member had designs on how this next inning was going to run.

"Agh, It's stressful when I'm up to bat first!" Abe said, yanking at his vest while Mihashi and Chibitani worked his leg guards off.

"Abe, get on first and we will take care of the rest," Momoe said.

"Hai!" Abe shouted, leaving a lingering glance on Mihashi before running out to bat.

Getting on to first was easy enough for him. He was, after all, a very good hitter. Chibitani, on the other hand, the last in the order, and up next, was about as good a batter as Mihashi was as a freshman, so in short, not very. He was easily struck out, stranding Abe on first.

Mihashi supressed the feeling of smugness when Chibitani returned, defeated, to the dugout. Sometimes, Mihashi felt like very bad person when he thought those things.

Luckily, Izumi was up next. Momoe signalled for Abe to steal, and after Izumi placed an excellent hit down the middle, it was one out with runners on first and third.

Then it was Sakaeguchi's at bat. Momokan made Izumi steal- an opportunity that would probably be their last, because Kasukabe was getting awfully annoyed at all those stolen bases. Now with runners on second and third, Sakaeguchi had quite an opportunity in front of him.

Which is what Tajima had been waiting desperately for.

"Momokan, time!" he shouted.

"What? Why!" she yelled.

"Time!"

When the signal was given and the ump called, Tajima ran out to Sakaeguchi, Momokan fuming.

"Tajima? What's wrong?" Sakaeguchi asked.

Tajima put his hands squarely on Sakaeguchi's shoulders and looked into his eyes hard.

"Sakaeguchi. Bring in two runs. Do that, and Mihashi will set you up on a date with Ruri!"

"W...what?" Sakaguchi belted.

"Get us two runs. You can do it! Think of Ruri! She's watching!"

Sakaeguchi, in shock, could only blink.

"Sakaeguchi!"

"HAI!"

Tajima smiled, the stage set. He ran back to the dugout and Sakaeguchi took the plate with fire in his eyes.

"Tajima Yuuichirou, _what_ did you just do?" Momoe hissed.

Tajima waved a hand dismissively at the coach, grinning widely out at home plate.

"Just watch, you'll see!"

Momoe and Hanai shared some same, irritated, desperately baffled thought at the same moment.

The dugout fell to a hush as Sakaeguchi set up. He watched the first pitch carefully- a ball. On the second, he slammed it- low and straight, blasting past first like a bullet out of a shotgun. Abe took the third run easily, and when the first baseman fumbled the ball, Izumi rocketed home, barely beating the ball to home plate.

When the dust settled and the ump shouted "SAFE!" there was only a second before Sakaeguchi, all laid out over first base, covered in dirt and sweat, howled, in a very un-Sakaeguchi-like way, "Yooooooooooosh!"

"Tajima...what just happened?" Hanai asked, slightly trembling.

Tajima grinned. "I promised him that if he brought in two runs, he'd get a date with Mihashi's cousin!"

Mihashi fell over.

"Ah," Hanai said. "I was wondering who that was he was asking Mihashi about every morning."

"YOU USED A TIME OUT FOR SOMETHING LIKE THAT?" Momoe hollered.

Tajima soundly ignored her and picked Mihashi up by the collar.

"Mihashi! The inning isn't over yet!" and stood him up to watch.

Abe walked in from the field, a little dazed, eyes fixed on the scoreboard.

6-4. Runner on first. One out.

Really?

Technically, it was not uncommon for Sakaeguchi to land a good hit, but Tajima's private time out had disturbed him a bit. Somehow, this had turn into a very good inning. Could they even get another run?

"Takaya!" Mihashi chirped as Abe came in, Suyama now up to bat.

"Tajima!" Momoe shouted, "Get in the damned circle, you're up next and there's only one out!"

"Ren," Abe responded.

"Suyama! Hit it! Hit it!"

"N...nice run, Ta...kaya. You were...amazing...as...always," Mihashi said, with his usual worshipping, stuttering glee.

Abe put his hand flat on top of Mihashi's head.

"You..." he said, letting the sentence die on his tongue as he wished for a way for it to be okay to hug his pitcher in the dugout during a game.

There was a clink of a bat.

"YES!" Mizutani shouted. "Sei, no..."

Mihashi smiled gently under the weight of Abe's hand.

"NICE BATTING!"

"Are you doing...alright?" Abe said.

"Tajima! Hit it! Oh, great job, Suyama-kun."

"I'm okay...Takaya."

"Thanks, Nishihiro-kun."

There was the sound of a ball clapping into the mitt.

"You're...sure?" Abe said, voice tinged with regret. Wasn't he just a little bit bothered by the battery? It was selfish of him, as the goal all along had been to wean Mihashi off of his catching, and he had even gone to extra lengths to make sure Mihashi was fine with the battery... but he couldn't help but to feel a tiny bit cheated on, because, well, as grown up as Abe was, part of him was still a child.

Another clap of the mitt sounded.

"Hit it! Tajima! Hit it!"

Mihashi nodded hard. "Because Takaya promised! You said I'd always be your-"

A clink of the bat came next, and suddenly Mihashi looked away from Abe and out to the field.

"T...Tajima hit!" Mihashi said, running over to the bar, leaving Abe a little stunned, and more than a little conflicted.

Mihashi always trusted Abe. Always. No matter what. Even if he didn't deserve it.

"NICE BATTING!"

Abe bit his lip and looked down at his hand, flexing it, and trying to hang on to the feel of Mihashi's hair.

It was at this exchange that Hanai, who had been watching carefully since Abe came in, got the first inkling of fear that as one dysfunction was being solved, another was beginning to surface on his team.

In the end, Sakaeguchi was advanced to third, but both hitters had been taken out on first base, unable to bring him home.

°o°o°o°o°o°

The rest of the innings were as painful as the first two. While Nishiura managed to accumulate a few more runs, Tajima did not have any additional harebrained motivations up his sleeve and Hanai failed to hit any homers. The bottom line, though, was that even with Abe behind him, Chibitani was not suited for a top eight game, allowing far too many hits. The game was called, 12 to 5.

Nishiura bowed to Kasukabe with tears in their eyes, and walking off the field, Chibitani was the most furious, but only with himself. Even Mihashi was moved to see him collapse into the dugout, face tear and dirt stained and shuddering.

In fact, Mihashi was the first to kneel next to Chibitani, in the only act Mihashi ever performed that hinted that he was anybody's senpai, and patted him on the back, telling him that he did well.

After that, lots of people had lots of things to say.

Momoe congradulated them for getting as far as they did, reminding them to keep the grief brief and remember what they could improve on. She also said, seemingly to no one in particular but obviously to someone very particular, that time outs were not to be used to promise dates.

Sakaeguchi confirmed with Mihashi, through stammers, that he could actually be set up with Ruri. Mihashi, equally embarrassed, promised him he would see what he could do.

Freshman Takahashi continued to try desperately to cheer up Chibitani, his best friend since forever, and when no words got through, he gave him a strong hug, to which the tiny pitcher deflated helpessly in his arms.

The team looked on with a silent "aww" and Abe seethed with jealousy.

The fray finally disbursed– packing, changing, moping, and Hanai hung back in the locker room waiting for everyone to leave except for Abe and Mihashi.

"You two," he said.

Those two jumped, having been caught in a clearly more-than-friendly embrace. Hanai walked over to them and crossed his arms.

"You've got marks."

Instinctively, their hands slapped quickly over the offending hickeys on their necks, which they were all too conscious of, as if covering them now would fix anything.

"Ha...Hanai, it's not what you-" Abe began to babble.

"Abe, who are you trying to fool?"

It was pretty clearly exactly what he thought, now that the guilty party reconsidered it.

"First Hamada, and now you guys? Really?" "No!" Abe shouted. "It's not like that! We...it's just..."

"They're just fooling around," Tajima called.

All three turned to the cleanup as he emerged from behind a row of lockers.

"Y...yeah," Abe said. "We just... we're just messing around. Its not like we're...gay...we're just..."

Noone but Tajima seemed to notice that Mihashi's participation in the conversation amounted to silent, distant-eyed, robotic nods at Abe's every word.

"It's not like we're dating or anything, Hanai!" Abe went on desperately. "Right, Mihashi?"

Mihashi looked up, snapped out of his nodding trance. "Y...yes. Just...fooling..." he trailed.

"It's like masturbating, but with a friend!"

"It's not like it matters!" Hanai snapped, his irritation as high as he would let it go, but really having folded because he couldn't handle the thought of any of his teammates masturbating with each other as casually as Tajima had just made it sound. Or maybe because he did, which was even worse.

"Just don't get all touchy in the dugout, alright?"

"Captain..." Tajima said, but Hanai was already storming off, having gleaned the answer to whatever had been bothering him, even if it was the incorrect answer.

No one else there actually knew what the source of his worry had been, and in the end, it would have saved many months of impending grief if he had actually mentioned it.

But he hadn't, and when the door slammed at the top of the stairs, Tajima shouted a way-too-excited "I KNEW IT!"

Abe tried to ignore the fact that Tajima had clearly been hiding in the shadows to catch them at it and socked him in the shoulder, gently enough not to cause any more injuries, but strong enough to make his point, and the three of them went off to join the rest of the team, Mihashi dragging his feet a little more than the others.

°o°o°o°o°o°

The next week was a slow blur. The team had long discussions about their weaknesses. In the end, it was a monumental achievement to get to the top eight, and Momokan assured them that Koshien was clearly the next step. She didn't mention directly, nor did anyone else, that the loss could be attributed to Mihashi's injury, which was to Mihashi's relief even though everyone knew it was true. She spoke highly of being professionals, highlighting that they should not take unnessessary risks during a lead (she looked squarely at Mihashi, finally) and reminded them that any disorderly conduct could easily get them barred from Koshien (this glance was at Tajima, who took it in way more stride than Mihashi had, having not actually done anything worth disqualification...yet.) They reviewed and revamped training exercises, to be put in effect starting within the week. Practice games were scheduled, games were reviewed, batting practice increased.

There was not much time, in between all of that, for Abe and Mihashi to get to their "fooling around." They had managed on quick grope and a little bit of kissing behind something or other that was solid and tall on the field, but only until Hanai shouted at them to quit it and if he caught them again at practice he was telling Momokan. Thusly, all attempts at in-school quickies were subsequently mutually abandoned.

But Abe held on to the glimmer of hope that was Tanabata. For some reason no one could determine, they had the day off from practice for the star festival. And as far as Abe was concerned, day off meant some serious, long-awaited, messy and desperate touching of a certain blond pitcher.

At least, he did hold on to that glimmer of hope, until he actually asked Mihashi what he'd be doing that day and he stopped dead, averting his eves nervously. They were walking their bikes home, heat blazing, coming close to the point where they would have to separate.

"Ah...Tayaka...I..." Mihashi stuttered.

"Do...you already have something planned?" Abe asked.

"With...Ruri and...Sakaeguchi...to...Hiratsuka..."

Abe's heart fell hard. "You planned the date for _that_ day? In Hiratsuka?"

"Y...yes."

"With _Sakaeguchi_?"

"And Ruri!"

It made sense, when else would they get a chance? But something still nagged.

"But won't you be...extra...with those two?"

Mihashi shook his head. "N...no, because..." he paused with a little wring of his hands, "we both promised to bring a friend, so..."

Able blinked. "A double date?" he said, more than slightly injured.

Mihashi nodded. "If I didn't then...I thought...it would look suspicious..."

Abe bit his lip again, which he was doing more and more often lately.

After a beat, Abe looked around. They were at this all-too-familiar corner, late in the afternoon, and there were no other people in sight.

"Ren..." he said.

Mihashi still had his eyes averted, feeling guilty for whatever it was he was supposed to feel guilty about.

"Is your mom home, Mihashi?"

He nodded. "And, my dad too...so..."

"Ah, so you'll want to spend time with him."

Mihashi nodded again. Abe couldn't fault him for that, but he was aching for a refresher on the feeling of Mihashi's skin on parts of his body that usually didn't see the light of day. He sighed, and leaned down to his pitcher, taking what he could get.

Mihashi was eager to kiss back, but this one was gentle. This kiss was not reserved so much as it was sweet instead of sexy.

Lips centimeters away, eyes locked on heavy, needy eyes, Abe whispered, "It makes me dizzy, you know."

Mihashi blushed, and painted another soft kiss on Abe's cheek before turning and pulling his bike forward.

They didn't say goodbye, but they didn't usually anymore, choosing instead to make their last memories together of stolen kisses and touches instead of silly, meaningless words.

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 8.

Sorry to truncate the game... I didn't think anyone really wanted to read about them getting slaughtered any more than I wanted to write it.

A twist in the next chapter! Are you ready for it?

Thank you for all the reviews always!


	9. and then a very loud one

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 9: And then a very loud one.

WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONS IN THIS CHAPTER.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"Shuu-chan...don't..." Mihashi whimpered as Kanou's hungry mouth bit playfully at the skin above his waistband.

"Hey," Kanou replied, folding his hands and looking up at his distressed friend over his rumpled pink yukata. "Why not? Like we used to when we were younger? It'll feel good, right?"

Mihashi's skin was hot, and why wouldn't it be, but he tried not to think about it and shook his head.

"But...Abe...kun...will..."

Kanou leaned up on his arms and raised an eyebrow at Mihashi. "Mihashi. 'Just fooling around?' remember? If it's just 'fooling around,' you can do it with whoever you want. Screw him." And with that, Kanou leaned back down, taking Mihashi's underwear with him.

"O...oh..." Mihashi moaned guiltily, lifting a hand to his forehead, eyes attached to the slow, laborious spin of the high ceiling fan.

It was true, wasn't it? Abe had made such a point to explain it to Hanai. They weren't dating. Just fooling around.

"Ah!" Mihashi said as he jerked, Kanou working his penis to firmness with one hand while hiking Mihashi's Yukata up against the obi with the other.

'Right, Mihashi?' He recalled. He cringed, remembering how he had nodded obediently before actually thinking about what he was agreeing to.

Just fooling around. Noncommittal. Without attachments. Mihashi's mind finally dipped away from coherent thoughts when Kanou squeezed the base of his member on that spot that he always knew he liked. And then all was lost, everything, as he took the shaft in his mouth and sucked. Mihashi groaned, lifting his hips up to meet Kanou's lips. Kanou hummed satisfactorily, fingering his own length with his right hand, hidden in between long folds of navy cloth decorated with fans and peonies.

"Do...that...thing..." Mihashi breathed through grunting thrusts. Kanou obeyed, tracing quick, tiny circles on the base with his tongue, the way Mihashi had done to Abe two weeks ago.

"Ahh!" Mihashi cried, grabbing the back of Kanou's hair and thrusting, rather inconsiderately hard.

As he fucked Kanou's mouth, sweating and panting and grunting, he recalled that he had thought _this_ was what fooling around was. Raw and basic, thrust and come, no traces of the desire and desperate need he thought he had shared with Abe.

"Coming!" Mihashi eked out in warning as he bucked hard, Kanou adjusting to receive the hot semen in his mouth so as not to dirty the yukata.

"Now me!" Kanou said, without skipping a beat, parting his robe and thrusting down his underwear, quickly up on his knees and positioning himself in front of Mihashi's lips.

This was fooling around, he thought. But now he thought otherwise.

Abe was so stupid.

So very, very stupid.

But so was I, Mihashi thought as he closed his eyes, and opened his mouth to receive Kanou.

This isn't how he expected this day to end. It wasn't how he'd wanted it to end. But it hadn't started the way he'd wanted it to begin, either.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Sakaeguchi had arrived at Mihashi's house early, trembling a bit when Mihashi's mother opened the door.

"Sakaeguchi-kun!" She chirped, ushering him in. He lightened a bit when Mihashi came down the stairs.

"Mihashi-kun!" He said.

"Sakaeguchi-kun!"

Mihashi was already dressed, in a dark pink yukata with a white and purple pattern of rabbits and abstract clouds.

"Ha ha, you look good, Mihashi," he said, a little jealously.

"Come on," Mihashi said, grabbing Sakaeguchi by the sleeve and tugging him towards the stairs. "Get dressed!"

Sakaeguchi was a little stunned at the prospect as the followed Mihashi. The pitcher had, rudely but correctly, assumed that Sakaeguchi didn't have his own yukata, so Mihashi had asked his mother to pull out an extra.

Mihashi pointed to the robe hanging over the window. It was dark green with white stripes, nothing very fancy, with a navy obi.

"G...get started and then I'll call my mom to help. I...can't help you...cause...I'm not...very good...at..."

Sakaeguchi laughed as he pulled it down, thinking of how appropriate it was that Mihashi couldn't handle tying obis on his own.

"It's okay, Mihashi, I can do it. Don't go anywhere, you can help me."

Sakaeguchi stripped as needed, and pulled the yukata on. The sleeves were perhaps a little big- maybe this was Mihashi's father's? He hiked the hem up to an appropriate place and called Mihashi. "Hold it here, like this," he said. Mihashi obeyed.

Cloth folded up in place, Sakaeguchi wrapped the obi around firmly. "You can let go now, Mihashi," he said, and then he wrapped the ends around one another behind him expertly.

When he turned, Mihashi's eyes were a little too sparkly with awe.

"It's really nice of your mom to drive us all the way to Hiratsuka," Sakaeguchi said as they walked down the stairs.

"Yeah, but it's okay, she's going to enjoy it too!"

"You two look so nice!" she purred when they appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She was dressed up as well, in something purple and flowery, with a purple chrysanthemum shaped hair pin that looked a bit out of place in her short, light hair.

°o°o°o°o°o°

The car ride took a little over an hour and a half, which was not so bad considering how long the rails would have taken. Mihashi has not been to Tanabata in Hiratsuka since he was young, and Sakaeguchi had never been at all. The drive was peppered with small talk between Sakaeguchi and Mihashi's mother, the former blushing when she mentioned how impressed Ruri would be with her cute date.

Parking was a nightmare, though, and the three were about twenty minutes late to the designated meet-up point when all was said and done.

"Ren-ren!" Ruri shouted, bounding over to meet him.

"Ruri!" Mihashi replied indignantly.

"What?"

"Don't...call..." he began, but her eyes had already fallen on Sakaeguchi. Likewise, Sakaeguchi was having difficulty keeping his eyes to himself.

Ruri was stunning, in a dark purple robe with a pink and white obi, cranes and clouds flying across it in all directions. Her hair, in a single braid, was wrapped in a neat bun on the back of her head, held tight with pins decorated with hanging wisteria.

He bowed, maybe a little too formal of a gesture, but he was a little too lightheaded to decide.

"P...pleased to meet you, Mihashi-chan!" he said.

She faced him, and with a much smaller bow, pink in the cheeks, she replied, "Nice to meet you...Sakaeguchi...kun."

"It's been a while," came a familiar voice from behind Mihashi.

"Ah!" he said, spinning around ungracefully. "Sh...Shuu-chan!" He looked around. "What are you doing here?"

Kanou put his hands on his hips. "What? Ruri brought me, Ren."

Mihashi blinked.

She brought Kanou?

Why would she do that?

"R...r...ruri...chan..."

"AH! Mihashi, I did it wrong, didn't I?" she whined. "I'm sorry, you said to bring a friend, and I didn't realize you meant one of mine and not one of yours! I thought it would be a nice surprise!"

Mihashi wasn't sure if this was good or bad.

"Sorry I'm not a pretty girl, Mihashi," Kanou said, "but we can have fun anyway, can't we?"

Mihashi shuffled his feet. He knew Kanou had always been on his side, always been his friend, but he felt like he had meant to close that chapter of his life.

"Come on, Mihashi. We'll have fun. Just like when we were younger. But with Sakaeguchi-kun, too."

It wasn't so bad, he decided, looking up at Sakaeguchi for reassurance.

"We'll have fun," his friend confirmed with a gentle nod. "Besides, Abe-kun would probably find a reason to get mad at you if you actually had a date."

Mihashi blinked, and they all began walking down the path.

Sakaeguchi was always one step ahead of those around him, but never let them know. He was best at this, unbeknownst to anyone, when it came to Abe and Mihashi. He often knew more about their relationship than they did. The pitcher let the sentiment drop, a little confused, but also a little distracted by an okonomiyaki stand.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"I hope this isn't too awkward, Sakaeguchi-kun," Ruri said, after about an hour and a half of the festival had passed and they had decided to split up from Mihashi and Kanou.

"N- no, Mihashi-chan," he responded, at ease with her but still a little stunned by how much more perfect she was in person. He knew she was cute- he had seen her a few times, always high-energy and bright eyed, encouraging, but over all, incredibly cute. Yet close up, she was even more amazing to Sakaeguchi, her more refined side just as stunning. "It's pretty comfortable with you, you're pretty easygoing."

"I'm glad you think so," she said, blushing lightly. "You're a very polite person, not as boisterous as the other baseball players I know."

"Except for Mihashi-kun, right?" Sakaeguchi offered.

"Hmm, well," she said, admiring long, glittering streamers overhead, "Ren is pretty high strung in his own way, you know?"

Sakaeguchi laughed a gentle chuckle. "That's for sure."

Ruri gave him a smile, a particular smile that was a little warmer and gentler than he'd seen, yet. He blushed hard.

"You take good care of him, don't you?" she said.

"Ah..." he stammered, "well, I guess you could say that. When I can get past any of the other people who take care of him." He fingered one of the streamers absently. "He's a lot to handle, but a lot of people seem to like him."

Ruri cocked her head a little, as if she were urging him to elaborate.

"Ah...like Abe-kun. The catcher, he...well," he paused, considering the best way to say it, "He dotes on Mihashi, really, and I think he's a little attached. Tajima, the third baseman, and the cleanup hitter? He's also good to Mihashi, which is funny, because they're total opposites. He's pretty crazy. He's the one who-" Sakaeguchi broke off suddenly, realizing he was about to reveal too much.

"Who what?" Ruri asked.

"Ah, nothing," he replied, rubbing the back of his head. He didn't want to sound like he had been pining for Ruri _that_ desperately.

"He also has Hamada, the cheer captain, who he knew from grade school. Hamada keeps a good eye on him."

His gaze lingered with Ruri's on a goldfish catching display.

"So when I can, I try to help when Mihashi is having trouble communicating. But, he's got so many people..."

Ruri smiled. "I'm glad everyone is taking care of him," she said, earnestly.

Sakaeguchi wanted to tell her how pretty she looked. But instead, he said, "We should go tie up our wishes, before it gets too crowded."

"Oh, good idea!" she said with a little bounce, turning and leading the way to the nearest bamboo tree.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"Mihashi. You've been staring at that paper for twenty minutes. Would you write something already?" Kanou was only a little irritated, and a lot patient. "Just wish to not get injured anymore or something."

"There's so much, though," he replied, "I don't know what to choose."

Kanou sighed. Mihashi had never been one for decisiveness.

"Like what?" he asked.

Mihashi shifted his weight on the wall they sat on, saying nothing.

"Is it about a girl, Mihashi?" Kanou asked, eagerness creeping into his smile.

"N...no..." he said, twisting the bright yellow strip of paper in his hands.

Kanou raised his chest when he turned over the intonation of the answer in his head.

That was worth a shot, he thought. "It it about a _boy_, Mihashi?"

Mihashi wrung the paper harder, and stammered without producing any actual words.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, Ren," he said, switching back and forth between Mihashi's given and family names at whim. "And guess that something is on your mind about this Abe guy that Sakaeguchi mentioned."

Mihashi froze, which was just about all the proof Kanou needed.

"Seriously? Is he bullying you, Mihashi?"

Mihashi shook his head with determined fury.

"So...are you...?" he said, veering towards the most distinct alternative.

"I...I don't know..." Mihashi stammered. "I don't know what's going on," he said. Tears were welling up in his eyes, but they were not the frantic, fearful tears. They were the other ones. The ones he cried when he was deeply miserable.

"Mihashi...what happened?" Kanou asked earnestly.

"I don't know...what's...going on," he sniffed. "We...started doing things...and...I mean...I didn't have any expectations or anything..." his tears landed loudly on the strip of paper along with the front of his robe. "But then he said we were just fooling around and...and I guess..."

Kanou clenched his fists to keep from tearing up along with him.

"I guess I didn't think it was just fooling around..."

Kanou put his arm across Mihashi's back and rubbed it, gently and comfortingly.

"I'm sorry...Mihashi..."

"It was pretty silly of me, though," Mihashi said, laughing a little sickly, "to think that he'd want...well...me...like that..."

Kanou straightened. "Mihashi, you don't have to think it's silly. Don't think that you're not worth...loving, okay?"

Mihashi nodded.

"It's hard," he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"I know. But one day you'll understand that you're a good guy and that you deserve affection just like everyone else."

"It's really nice of you, Shuu," Mihashi said. "Thank you."

Mihashi straightened out the paper on his lap. "I think I know what I'll write now," he said.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"This is stupid," Abe said, gruffly.

"It is not, you big jerk," Tajima said, breaking a third paper net in the water. "You could be just a little appreciative."

"For what?" Abe demanded.

"For giving you something to do other than mope about Mihashi being on a date with someone else." He sighed and stood up, resigned finally to not getting a goldfish today.

"I'm not _moping_," Abe said indignantly.

"You are _so_ moping," Tajima assured.

"It's not like he's my boyfriend or anything. He can do what he wants."

"You keep telling yourself that," Tajima said, eyeing up a takoyaki booth.

"Again? Have you stopped eating for ten minutes on this entire trip?"

Abe had been very against attending the minuscule Saitama City tanabata celebration, even more so when Tajima demanded he go, because no one else would come with him. He wasn't sure what manipulative tactic had done it, but in any case, here he was, following around the hyperactive over eater for reasons he could not fathom.

"Abe, let's be serious here," he said, two sticks of octopus balls in hand. "Do you not want to admit that you like him, or do you seriously just not realize it yet?"

Abe took the stick offered to him. "I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"So you're in denial."

"What?"

"You're fucking gaga over him, Abe. Deal with it."

"Tajima, why in the world are you suddenly the authority over who I'm 'gaga' for?"

The cleanup sighed. "I could tell from that moment in the locker room, Abe. What you were doing was not 'just fooling around.' People who are just fooling around don't _stare _like that. Even Hanai could tell."

"I don't really understand why we're having this conversation anymore, Tajima, but I'm I'm pretty sure I don't want to be having it any longer."

"Fine," Tajima said bitterly, "we're being interrupted anyway." At that moment, Abe caught sight of Hamada and Izumi in the distance, the former waving his arms wildly while the latter looked on apathetically.

He had never been so happy to seem them in his life.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"It was really nice meeting you, Sakaeguchi-kun," Ruri said, more than a little flushed.

"It was," he agreed, "I had a good time tonight."

Two mothers tittered in the background, and two peers smiled knowing smiles.

"I...hope...I can...see you again..." Sakaeguchi said, a little nervously.

"Yes!" Ruri said, hopping with her usual enthusiasm that he found so endearing. "I'm sure we will!"

"Goodbye, Ruri," Mihashi's mom said. "It was nice seeing you, sister."

"Goodbye Ruri-chan," Mihashi said.

As they walked off to find the car, Mihashi ran up to his mother to sort out the change he was left with.

"I didn't know you were coming back with us, Kanou-kun," Sakaeguchi said.

"Ah, well, I thought I'd come to hang out with him and cheer him up."

"Ah, did he tell you what was bothering him?"

"Yeah," Kanou replied, "That Abe guy."

"Mmm. They never have an easy time of it," Sakaeguchi confirmed.

"What's the deal with them?"

"Hmm," Sakaeguchi thought. "They need each other."

"They need each other?"

"That's the best way to explain it. Separate them and they fall apart."

"Ugh, Mihashi..."

"Though, to tell you the truth, I think Abe's got it worse than Miha-"

"Hey!" Mihashi said.

"Ah!" the two replied together, jumping a bit.

"Mom says it's okay if you stay, Kanou," Mihashi chirped.

"Great!"

"Sakaeguchi-kun, if you want to...?"

"Oh no," he replied, "I'd like to go home and relax."

"How was...the...date?" Mihashi asked.

"Ah," Sakaeguchi said, blushing, "I think it went...well..." he said.

"I think so too," Mihashi replied, holding up his phone. "She's already asked for your email."

The ride home was uneventful. Mihashi slept soundly against the window in the front seat, and his mother played gentle music quietly on the radio as Kano stared out the window and Sakaeguchi thought fondly of Ruri.

°o°o°o°o°o°

When they got home, and said their goodbyes to Sakaeguchi, Mihashi and Kanou made short order of the distance between the front door and the bedroom, flopping on the bed, exhausted.

"Ren?" Kanou said. "Do you need some cheering up?"

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 9.

Ouch, how about a nice helping of mope.

No teasers for the next chapter. It's going to be too good to spoil.

Thanks for the reviews!


	10. His First Time

Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 10: His First Time

°o°o°o°o°o°

Mihashi had not wanted to wake up. He wished that the sun would rise and fall again and he, tucked away into a neat, miserable pile, would be none the wiser to the new day. Yet here he was, sunlight streaming through with window in a painfully glorious way that made him a tiny bit more bitter, air thick and dull, and he wished now that he could die in any number of ways– gentle or gruesome, he wasn't picky– so that he wouldn't have to go to practice. He ran his palm over his stomach absently and curled up into a ball facing his alarm clock.

It was 6:30ish, so time was running out. Practice wasn't until 8:00 since there was no school today, but it was impending just the same. Mihashi picked up the note again, a new emotion rising into his lungs. "Left when the trains started running- practice today. Feel better!" This new feeling was quick and sharp like a well-kept switchblade, and would be tucked away again in less than a minute, but now, while he had it open in his hand, he narrowed his eyes and said aloud,

"Fuck you, Kanou."

There's something sharp inside Mihashi, buried under years of trauma at the hands of middle school teammates, so it's fitting that it was one of those teammates who was responsible for bringing it just a little bit closer to the surface.

To his distress, Mihashi was unable to find a way to off himself in the next hour (not that he'd been trying _that_ hard, honestly,) and at 7:30, he was face to face with his door and a giant mess of resignation. Slave to routine, he shouted "I'm leaving now," though to no one in particular.

He was happy enough that the first person he saw on the way was Sakaeguchi– considering the best case scenario was not seeing _anyone_, which wasn't happening– as he was the most pleasant. Sakaeguchi lifted his hand to greet Mihashi, but put it back down without a word when he caught the look on Mihashi's downcast face. Always a good interpreter, they walked the rest of the way to school in silence, an understanding between them. As they walked, Mihashi wondered if there was still a train he could jump in front of before he had to face Abe.

Incidentally, there were no trains on their route.

°o°o°o°o°o°

That dread was a conflict of interests with the catcher, it turned out, as Abe could not get out of his house fast enough, desperate to see Mihashi's face again. The 24 hours of tanabata had been a little too much for him (and Tajima had been no help there, turning hours into days,) and part of him needed to know that his pitcher was still alive and well. He was second only to Hanai, who was always first for obvious captain-related reasons.

Everything went downhill the moment Mihashi arrived.

It started when Abe called to him from across the pitch as he entered the gates. Mihashi looked up at Abe for only a second before turning to Sakaeguchi, who might have looked concerned, he couldn't really tell from this distance, and they walked on, _ignoring_ him.

Heart rising high into his chest, Abe whipped around to see if anyone else had noticed what he thought he had just seen. Hanai had, but he was pretending to not have noticed, so without corroborator, Abe thought maybe he was just going crazy.

"Mihashi!" he called again, starting into a weak jog over to the pair. Immediately, Sakaeguchi stepped in front of Mihashi, and when Abe approached, he said, in his best calm voice, "I need to- borrow Mihashi- for a moment Abe-kun, so, I'll return him...soon..." and he grabbed Mihashi by the arm and tugged him away to the dugout. Abe was left dejected, mouth hanging wide open as he watched the two flee. Mihashi hadn't even tried to make eye contact. Even Hanai couldn't help but to stare this time, now in the company of Suyama, Tajima, Kumai and both Mizutanis.

Something was seriously wrong. Was he hurt? Or sick? Abe wondered. Was he worried that Abe would yell at him? He thought they were past that. While wondering what he should do, he was already walking towards Mihashi.

"You can't avoid him, Mihashi, he's the catcher," Sakaeguchi said to Mihashi, who was trembling and clutching his sides.

"Mihashi, I'll go-" Tajima started, but his voice fell flat when he saw Hanai walking toward Abe first.

"Did something happen last night?" Sakaeguchi pried.

Mihashi wasn't entirely sure how to respond, because yes, something did, but no, that wasn't really all of it, or even most of it.

"H...Hanai, what...?" Abe stammered, steps slowing as the captain approached.

"I think you need to hang back for a minute," he said, "I think Mihashi needs a little space."

"W..what?" Abe stammered.

"Mihashi," Tajima said, cutting in, "What happened?"

Mihashi clutched his stomach, feeling ill. Something painful was rising inside him. He was afraid that if it got out, someone would get hurt.

"Just hang on for a minute," Hanai said.

Abe grew exponentially furious by the _second_.

"What's going on?" He shouted, "What's wrong with Mihashi?"

Mihashi doubled over, sliding onto the ground.

"Are you sick?" Tajima asked.

It was at that moment that Shino'oka appeared, frozen by the gate as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Just relax," Hanai said.

"Relax?" Abe said, fiercely. He tried to step around Hanai, who shifted his feet to block him.

"Just hang on," Hanai urged, lifting a hand to Abe's chest. This was the one thing he would not take, tough, being touched by Hanai, and he shoved the captain, stomping towards the ever growing cocoon around the pitcher.

As Hanai shook, furiously and fruitlessly, Shino'oka got up the courage to run to him.

"What..." she asked, trailing off when the look in Hanai's eyes told her he had no idea better than she did.

Abe tore through the pile of people, successful only because Tajima was on the wrong side of the huddle. There, trembling in a pile at his feet, was Mihashi, holding on to his stomach and maybe heaving.

There was a split second where he had to choose between two emotions- heartbroken, in which he could fall next to his pitcher, embrace him and cry with him, and fearful, which usually resulted in him yelling.

He picked the wrong one, for the first time in a long time.

"Mihashi! What's going on?" he demanded.

Mihashi wondered that himself, for a moment. The scenario was wrong. He should have been able to feel miserable with guilt. That was easy enough. He should have been able to fall over at his catcher's feet, crying and begging for forgiveness for cheating on Abe. That would have been fine. Self-pity and apologies were well-known and well-practiced concepts for Mihashi, and he could handle prostration and begging.

But why should he feel guilty for cheating on someone who didn't even love him in the first place?

"Did someone do something to you Mihashi?"

Mihashi looked up at the catcher, eyes shifting from fear to something else entirely and the sharp blade rose to the surface of his heart.

"You did," Mihashi said squarely.

"W...what..." Abe said, stepping back unconsciously.

But Mihashi did not repeat himself. Instead he stood up, shoved Tajima out of his way with ceremony, and walked off, feet heavy.

"I'm not feeling well and I'm going home," Mihashi said.

All eyes lingered, half accusingly and half fearful, on Abe.

You did good things, and amazing things, and things that made me feel wanted, Mihashi thought, tears coming hard as he pushed through the gate.

But then you took them away. You took them away, and I can handle not being your pitcher, Abe, but I can't...

Mihashi's thoughts blurred as he made his way off the grounds, his vision following suit as the tears came too fast.

He put a hand to his face and choked on the sob, hard, leading to a deep, soundless gasp- the sob that comes when one's chest is about to explode with agony but there's no where for the impact to go- and then he shuddered into a sudden violent cough and gasp of distressed, moaning cries. He huddled behind a tree, so near the exit of the school, but unable to make the last six meters out.

He pawed at his belly fruitlessly as he heaved- painful, silent sobs with long gasps for want of oxygen- but he couldn't fish the feeling out. It was tight and heavy, and it was anger. He didn't like it, he didn't like being mad at Abe, he didn't like avoiding him, and being curt with him, and walking away from him.

But damnit. Mihashi gave Abe all of himself. Trusted him with his every move, and his whole heart, and he didn't realize it until Abe shoved it back into his shaking, bloody hands. Now he had this retching heart, outside of his chest with nowhere to go, growing bitter, growing angry, growing so tired.

He sobbed until his lungs hurt too much to cry any longer. He grew weak, and still, save tiny, hitching gasps that jarred the stillness.

He fell asleep there, tired and desperate and exhausted from being angry for the first time.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"What's going on?" Momoe demanded, eyes piercing straight into Abe's.

"I don't know!" Abe shrieked, "I didn't do anything, no one will tell me what's happening!"

"Mihashi ran out of here crying, Abe. Everyone's looking at you with some pretty hard glares, so you better speak up. We can take this in private if you want, but I'm getting answers. We need that pitcher."

"I don't _know_," Abe wailed, his own tears coming now. "I swear to God I don't, he wouldn't even look at me, let alone tell me what was going on! Please, believe me!"

Abe was coming apart at the seams. And Hanai had seen this coming from a mile away, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

For what seemed like ages, Abe was convinced that Mihashi depended on him. Needed him to function. Would fall apart if Abe was taken away from him. He thought Mihashi was a little clingy, but that was cute. Silly Mihashi. And yeah, he was been weaned of dependence on Abe as a catcher but, he was still... well, he was still something right? It didn't make sense for Mihashi to walk out on Abe _of his own accord_. That just _defied_ nature! Went against all he knew! All that was right in the world, where Abe, strong and firm, kept Mihashi tucked tight under his wing, safe from harm. Mihashi needed him.

Didn't he?

Abe was completely unaware that he was sobbing into his hands in a pile on the ground of the dugout, teammates looking on, fearful.

Momoe ordered the team to take the field, and Chiyo to go run a cold wet towel and some water. The coach sat down on the bench, waiting patiently for Abe to recover.

Mihashi's trust was the most amazing gift he had ever been given. It was for that feeling that he cherished Mihashi. He didn't think he could stand having that taken away from him. He certainly wasn't doing a very good job of it at this very moment.

"Abe-kun? Can you stand yet?" Momoe asked quietly.

He shook his head, breathing still hitched. "I don't think I can ever move my legs again," he whispered.

Momoe sighed gently. "It hurts a lot the first time, doesn't it?"

Abe blinked back his tears and looked up. "M...Momokan?"

She put a hand on his shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze. She took the wet towel from Chiyo and patted Abe's face, the cloth cool against his skin.

She knew a lot, and part of knowing a lot meant she knew what not to say. She knew that as boys grew up into men, their personalities broadened with their bodies, making room for new emotions along with new muscles. Abe and Mihashi were a strange, mismatched pair, and she knew that from the beginning. More trouble then they were worth, it seemed. Mihashi had learned to fight today, if even just a little. Learned to protect himself from being hurt- something he'd never tried to do, happy to take all of the abuse and blame to heart in the past. But Abe? Abe had learned to fight long ago, thanks to Haruna. What _he_ needed to learn was how to show his love. As she had said before, he was dependant on his anger. He didn't know the proper way to show affection.

But she couldn't say all of that. They needed to learn it face to face, or else they would not learn it at all.

"I think you should go home," she said, with a smile. She nudged him a little, urging him to look at her.

"Are you sure...coach?"

"Yes. Here," and she stood up, lifting him by his arms.

He shuddered as the feeling returned to his legs, and he grabbed on to her shirt with a scared, trembling fist. And then he stood there for a second, looking at her face, then looking down at his hand grasping tight at the waist of her shirt, thinking about how pathetic he must look, hanging on like a child. She gave him a warm grin and the next thing he knew, he was wrapped up tight in her arms. He let himself go limp again, and she whispered, "This is how you do it, Abe-kun." There was no understanding of what she was talking about at the moment, but his body would file away the sensation for future use subconsciously. She pulled him away and nodded, knowingly. He nodded back sheepishly, and went out to fetch his things and go home.

"Get moving!" she shouted at the players, who were very much not moving, too busy gossiping and speculating.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Abe didn't want to face his mother when he got home, and luckily, she was out shopping when he arrived. He fell into bed fully clothed and dirty and miserable. Mihashi wouldn't arrive at his own home for another hour, after he woke with a start when some unknown freshman from the volleyball team asked if he was okay.

Mihashi didn't know what to do. He only made it a few feet into his room before he collapsed on the floor. He fingered the phone in his pocket, thoughtful. That would be silly, he thought. He couldn't call Abe. What would he say? besides, Abe would still be at practice. He sat up and flipped open the tiny silver electronic. Maybe that would be to his benefit? He could send a message now, and Abe would get it when practice was over.

He wouldn't say he was sorry, because he wasn't. He was firm on this point.

So he decided to be honest, and typed, with shaking fingers, "I don't know what to do."

Pressing the send button ceremoniously, he exhaled, and crawled up to his bed, flopping onto it.

It was only a second later when it buzzed back at him.

He flipped it over, fearful, and read, "Me neither."

The two of them, in completely different places, shared a single sentiment. They clutched their phones to their chests and wept, thanking God that they were still connected. That the other was still there, waiting. Listening.

After about twenty minutes, when Mihashi had almost dozed off, it buzzed again.

"Can we talk? I don't know what to say, but I won't yell."

Mihashi's throat grew dry and tight.

He was conflicted, but above all, he knew that he did want to see Abe, more than anything. So he agreed.

"My house? Door will be open."

°o°o°o°o°o°

End of Chapter 10.

The final chapter of part one, 10-2,will be next.

Chapter 10-2: Tobira wo Akete


	11. Tobira wo Akete

Hopelessly Devoted 10.2- Tobira wo Akete.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay. Miracles are possible. Something's waiting for us to find it, somewhere, if we just open the door." -ANZA

°o°o°o°o°o°

It had been almost two hours.

If there was any possible way for this situation to be more terrifying for Mihashi, he didn't want to know what it was. It did not take two hours to get to his house from Abe's. Not nearly two hours, not even if you were taking your time.

Mihashi was almost hyperventilating, staring at the phone, and at his door in turn, again and again. Did he misunderstand? Was Abe actually at practice? No, he could rightfully assume he'd be on his way. Did he not unlock the door? No, he checked over an hour ago, he unlocked the door, for sure. Besides, Abe would have called if he couldn't get in. Oh God, Mihashi thought, damned near pain with fear, maybe he changed his mind. Furious that I walked out on him.

Mihashi slammed the phone on the side table. No, no, no, he thought. This was fine, there was a reasonable explanation for all of this. It was almost noon now. He was going to take a pee, and then sit down and call Abe and find out what the hell was going on. Yes. Good plan of action, Mihashi. You're a brave boy, Mihashi. You can handle this, Mihashi.

He stood up carefully, stretching his back on account of not having fully recovered from the painful tree nap. His heart was fluttering. He set his hand on the door handle and kept it there for a long second. He shook off the ridiculous notion that Abe might show up in the next particular minute while he was in the bathroom, miss him and leave. He almost laughed a little at himself for even thinking it, and when he pulled the door, it opened toward him with unusual ease.

"Mi...hashi..."

And there he was, hand limp in front of him where his hand had been pressed against the door.

How long had he been there?

How long had he been planning to make him wait?

"You..." Mihashi said.

"Mihashi, I'm-" Abe began, stepping into the room. "I'm sorry I- I was so afraid to come in-"

Mihashi just shook his head, unbelieving.

"You..." he repeated.

Who was this guy? This boy standing in his doorway? This tall, dark boy– was it the same one who had guided him, confidently and possessively for more than a year? This one, who was too afraid to open his door? No matter how much bigger Abe was than himself, Mihashi couldn't shake just how young Abe seemed. How much like a child he suddenly looked.

"You..." he started one more time, beginning to tremble. He hung his head, and Abe closed the door behind him carefully, eyes fixed on the pitcher. Mihashi clenched his fists, hard.

"...bastard." Mihashi whispered as the first fresh tear rolled off of his cheek.

Abe deflated and reached out his arms to embrace him, but he was shocked to be pushed back against the wall by Mihashi's shaking palms.

Abe breathed loudly, terrified as Mihashi's hands clenched into fists in his shirtfront as tears rolled off of his downcast face.

"You bastard..." he quietly repeated, barely a squeak.

After an uncomfortable moment, Abe lifted his hands to try and touch Mihashi's arms, but suddenly Mihashi's slapped them away hard, the dam broken, and his fury poured- rushed out all over the room.

"What the hell were you thinking!" Mihashi shouted, choking on sobs. "Why would you touch me, Abe, why? What makes that okay?"

Abe's breath hitched in his throat, shaking his head back and forth slowly.

"Mi...hashi...please...I..."

"What makes it okay?" He sobbed on. "I trusted you, I did, I trusted you, why-" he cried, and Abe reached out to grab one of Mihashi's flailing wrists in his hand.

"Mihashi, please!"

"I hate it Abe! I hate it! I hate this feeling!" He struggled against Abe, sobbing, dancing, and when he wrenched his pitching hand free, he slammed his fist against the catcher's chest.

Soon they were on the floor, on their knees, Mihashi pounding on Abe's chest with his fists, sobbing undecipherable indignities. And Abe, crying only half as hard as his hysterical partner, clenched his teeth and waited for Mihash's violence to pass. Abe brushed his shaking hands over Mihashi's head as he was beaten, resigned to take the punishment for whatever sins he had aggregated.

It hurt. It went on for the longest minute of Abe's life. A flash of a tiny, white fists, a burning on his pecs, tears everywhere, frantic sobs, nails– nails now, Mihashi was gripping his shirt with one hand. He was getting exhausted. The sobs were fading into gasps for air. The other fist came to a stop on his chest, devoid of force. There was only panting now. Panting and the hot sting on his chest. Abe sat. Abe waited. Mihashi clenched desperately at Abe's shirt. Abe pushed his fingers through the back of Mihashi's hair.

After another heavy, silent minute, Abe spoke, voice shaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Mihashi fell forward, nails scraping down Abe's shirt as he landed in his lap.

Crying much more quietly now, Mihashi whispered, "I hate it. I hate it so much." There was a pause for a hiccuping sob in between-

"But... but I can't hate _you._"

Abe stroked Mihashi's wildly messy hair lovingly. He had never been so relieved to hear something in his entire life.

"Mihashi, you're so good. You're too good. Too good for someone as awful as me."

Mihashi didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. All of his energy was drained now, and it was all he could do to just continue breathing.

Abe reached down and took Mihashi's face in his hands. He lifted him up, and Mihashi gave no resistance. Abe looked him in the face. His eyes were closed, delicate lashes laced with wetness. Face hot and red, damp. Erratic hair stuck to his cheeks where it had been soaked with tears.

And he kissed him. Abe kissed the wounded beast on the lips, gently, lovingly, but firmly, with no trace of desire. Mihashi's lips were cold, soft, sticky and salty. So soft– he had never really noticed how soft they were. After a second, Mihashi sobbed once against the kiss, and Abe pulled away. He pressed another brief kiss on this lips, for one last taste. Then Abe kissed Mihashi's right cheek, burning and damp. Slowly, he moved and kissed the left. His temple. The bridge of his nose. His forehead. He pressed his lips firmly there, lingering. Mihashi's hands were on Abe's arms now, but he still didn't resist.

Abe kissed a trail of tiny pecks from Mihashi's lips across his left cheek, across his ear, down his neck, and he rested his head there in the crook. He took a deep, shaking breath.

"I love you so much, Mihashi. So, so much," he whispered, his voice cracking at the end.

Mihashi wrapped his cold, damp, raw hand against the back of Abe's neck. He opened his eyes and shook his head. The rage Mihashi had felt was now a solid object, discarded in time. It was something he had left over _there_, an abstract place that was not here, but was a few minutes ago. Tears kept running down Mihashi's cheeks, eyes swollen and stinging. How much had he cried today?

"I feel like I could die, Mihashi. I'm so scared."

Mihashi's grip clenched intuitively on Abe's back. The catcher was trembling, breath broken. But Mihashi still couldn't speak.

"I don't deserve you, but I want you. I need you. Mihashi, I need you."

Mihashi nuzzled his wet face into Abe's shoulder. Potential replies floated into Mihashi's consciousness over and over, but none of them seemed right. He pushed Abe up and looked into his eyes.

Abe had looked better, but there was something about the big, vulnerable child that was perfect to him. Eyes rimmed with red, forehead knotted with fear, there was no doubt in Mihashi's mind that Abe had meant it.

It was Mihashi's turn this time. He moved in, excruciatingly slowly, hovering for just a second to feel Abe's hitched breath centimeters above his lips. He pressed their lips together. Abe's were hot and rough, as they had always been, as Mihashi remembered them from every single encounter. He could identify Abe's lips blind– that curl of the thick lower one, that tightness of skin at the edges. Mihashi kissed every part of Abe's lips, and Abe began to cry, wrapping his arms around Mihashi's back and pulling them close.

Mihashi didn't stop kissing. Abe didn't stop crying. It was strange and embarrassing. It was beautiful. It was wonderful.

The door was finally open.

°o°o°o°o°o°

They fell asleep there, Mihashi curled around Abe's back, legs entwined with legs, fingers laced with fingers, lips raw from tears and kisses. The room heavy with humid air, cicadas droning normally, as if a perfect love hadn't just bloomed full in the room above them.

What did cicadas know?

No, everything was right now. Everything was right in the cool curve of Abe Takaya's back, and in the calm, satisfied breathing of Mihashi Ren. In the slowly burning bruises on Abe's chest, and the mortifying, traitorous bite marks on Mihashi's stomach. Even that was right. Everything was right on the path that led them here, to this spot on the cool floor, where they shared their first kiss as true lovers.

They showed up at practice the next day, at 5:00 AM, hand in hand through the gate, unabashedly. Well, a little abashed, because Abe was blushing hard at the stares of his teammates, but Mihashi squeezed his palm gently to assure his confidence. The stares turned to smiles, and some, like Hanai's, turned away respectfully, while other's, such as Tajima's, grinned hard with approval.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Later, much later, after winning the fourth game of the spring tournament, and the celebratory love making that came afterwards, Mihashi asked,

"That day...Takaya. When I ran out...on you. What...made you...come after me?"

Abe closed his eyes and lifted Mihashi's bedsheets to his chest, bruises from that day long healed.

"Momoe spoke to me. She... seemed to be very good at...helping me."

"Ah," Mihashi said. "It makes sense that she would know how to help with things like that."

"Why is that?" Abe said, brushing his finger's through Mihashi's hair.

"Oh, Abe," Mihashi said, dissapointed. "Really?"

"What?" he said, indignantly.

"Because Momoe is a _lesbian_."

And just like that, even the last mystery came to a close.

°o°o°o°o°o°

Hopelessly Devoted: Part 1 End.

Don't fret. The saga will continue in "Hopelessly Devoted: Part 2"

Please add me to your watch list or check back to read it!

Thank you for all of the kind reviews! I hope you've enjoyed part one.

In Part 2, we find the Nishiura boys in their final year of High School, aiming one last time for Koshien, preparing for graduation, and managing new and old loves in between.


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